


Swallow My Words

by YesIsAWorld



Series: Swallow My Words [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American AU, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lacrosse, M/M, Overly Aggressive Athletes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/pseuds/YesIsAWorld
Summary: Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you over and over again to [gettingaphdinlarry](http://www.gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) for your insightful and through betaing. I'm forever grateful for your improvements! 
> 
> Also, thanks to [Lauren](http://www.fullonlarrie.tumblr.com) for turning my first draft into something presentable. You did a great job with your first beta! 
> 
> And also, to the GCs for listening to me alternatively whine and cheer at this fic, thanks for always being there! xx
> 
>  
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites. I'm not currently allowing translations either. Thank you for respecting my wishes.**

“Yo, Styles!” 

Harry grinned as his cleats clicked along the paved walkway beside the perfectly manicured field for the first practice of the season. The painted white lines demarcating the field were a stark contrast to the bright green grass. 

The whole lacrosse team had made it outside before him, and were apparently waiting for him; he was running a few minutes late because of a meeting with his Calculus teacher to discuss retaking the test he hadn’t quite passed. A better grade would be worth the disapproving look Coach was giving him. “Let’s see some hustle!”

His coach’s words were mostly for show, as Harry was already clacking sticks with his waiting teammates. 

“Glad you could join us today. Maybe tomorrow you could try being on time. Or I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem to find one of these gentlemen who would happily take your place as captain.”

Harry knew he wasn’t actually in danger of losing the honor of being team captain this year, but he put on his best abashed look. He’d explain the situation to Coach after practice anyway. There was the possibility of Coach reaming him out for risking his grades when he hadn’t yet gotten an official offer yet, but also, maybe, just maybe, he’d talk to Mr. Stevens and see if he couldn’t go a little easier on him. Harry had heard that occasionally there were perks to being captain. 

He slid in next to Niall, his best friend, and top goal scorer for the Exter Academy lacrosse team, as the whistle blew for them to start their three-lap jog before their stretching routine. 

Harry led the team through a series of stretches, calling each one out by rote, the whole team following the well-practiced routine. He watched the team as they all twisted like pretzels, using their elbows as levers against their bent knees, and stretched their backs. For the last few years, this team had been touted as the one that could finally win the state championship. The seniors had been playing together since they were small boys who could barely manage running with an upright stick, and they were good. Really good. The guys in the lower grades were pretty talented, they were a solid unit, all with the same drive and dedication. Harry didn’t want to get his hopes up, but there was a small spark in the center of his chest which told him that maybe everyone was right, that this was their year. 

“Switch!” he shouted. 

He shook the thought of winning the State Championship out of his head as they all switched sides to continue their stretch. Harry’s chest clenched at the thought of winning, of all these years of hard work paying off, but his stomach flipped at the thought of what they’d need to do to get there. They’d have to beat Phillips Academy in the Division Finals to move on to States. Harry swallowed thickly and refused to think about that. It was only the first official practice of the year, and though he and Niall and a few of the others held unofficial practices all through the off-season, this was the time for him to buckle down and really focus. The plan for the first practice was to work on passing and footwork, with a scrimmage during the last half of practice. Maybe after practice he’d let himself think about the upcoming games this season, but right now, the only thing that mattered was reminding the whole team how to play as one cohesive unit. 

“Ready, Coach!” Harry shouted while the boys stood to shake out their stretched muscles. 

“Okay boys, circle up.” They all stood in a semicircle in front of Coach. “I’m letting you know up front that I’m going to push you guys this year. I know you’re good. I know you’re good enough to win States, so I’m going to be riding you hard.” 

Xander, a defenseman, snickered and muttered under his breath, “Pretty sure he should add a ‘no homo.’”

Harry’s face tensed in an effort to keep his expression neutral, despite the smattering of quiet laughs behind him. 

Coach stopped his motivational speech with a scowl. “What’s so funny?”

He was met with silence. Harry knew how this would play out though. Coach would stare them down until someone finally caved. He knew Xander was too chickenshit to admit he was the instigator. 

Niall finally cleared his throat. “Someone just clarified that you weren’t, uh, making gay innuendos on purpose.”

Coach narrowed his eyes. “This is an all-boys school. I’m sure you hear that queer shit day in and day out. Anyone got anything else to say or can I continue?” More silence. Harry kept his eyes trained on the bleachers in the distance. He was starting to get a headache from his tightly-clenched jaw. As his heart pounded he refused to have a reaction. “You pansies aren’t up for a tough season? Feel free to walk away now. I don’t need any distractions from you lot on or off the field. Keep your heads down and play hard or don’t come back to my field, you got that?”

The whole team agreed in unison, “Yes, Coach.”

“Enough of this inspirational shit. Line up. Gauntlets first.”

After running a set of basic drills: ground balls, picks, clearing, shooting, and passing—nothing too difficult despite Coach’s warning—it was finally time to scrimmage. Harry poured his all into the game. He was in his element, focused on the ball, where all the other players were likely to go, all the options in any given moment for them to get the ball upfield and on net. Nothing else mattered but the gentle burn in his legs as he ran, and the steady rhythm of his breathing. The jolts and bruising impacts to his body were like a welcome home after months of non-contact pickup games, and there was no room left in his brain to think about anything besides the dozens of possible plays he could put into motion. 

Coach’s final whistle blew when Harry still had the ball nestled in his stick’s pocket. He flicked his wrists and got one final shot off, surprising the backup goalie. It whizzed past him as Coach yelled, “Styles! That’s enough.”

They congregated back at the bench. Harry and his teammates peeled off their helmets and jerseys, loosened their pads, and waited for Coach’s notes. 

“That was awful,” Coach finally growled. Harry bit his lip and rolled his Gatorade bottle in his hands. “Never have I had a more abysmal first practice. At this rate we’ll be lucky to have a shot at the division title; Tomlinson and the rest of the Phillips boys are going to beat your asses.” Harry was mid-sip and let out a choked cough as the artificially red liquid went down the wrong way. Half the team turned to look at him as he coughed and sputtered, trying to draw in a full breath. He could feel his cheeks flush, so he kept his head down. The coach waited him out and once Harry was quiet, he continued, “I want you to show up ready to play and win this season. There better be some real improvement tomorrow or I can guaran-fucking-tee you there’ll be a fat donut in the win column this year.” He paused a moment and looked around at the team. “Sticks in!” 

The whole team banged their sticks together and in unison shouted, “Exter!” 

Coach blew his whistle a final time. “Dismissed.”

Everyone started a slow jog toward the pile of sports bags and backpacks except Harry. He grabbed a mesh bag full of practice balls and walked alongside Coach. Harry shot him a sly smile. “Think you’re getting old and senile; pretty sure you gave us that same speech last year.” 

Coach laughed and roughly thumped Harry between his shoulder blades. “You did good out there today. Great hustle. Let’s see if we can’t get everyone else in the same mindset.” 

The parking lot was almost empty by the time Harry got to his car. Unfortunately, Xander was parked next to him, leaning back on his car, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Harry approach. “How’s it feel to have to Coach sucking your cock?”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was only the first day of practice and he was already over Xander’s attitude. He swallowed down what he really wanted to say and instead lobbed a comment right back. “Dunno. You tell me; heard you only made the team ’cause you blew him. Your skills out there seem to back that up.”

As always, Xander backed off, grumbling “fuck off” as he climbed into his car. He slammed the door and peeled out of the parking lot. Harry snatched a clean shirt from his back seat and pulled it over his head. Then he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was his last season. He could deal with these assholes for another few months, then be done with them forever. 

Niall fake coughed. “Maybe lay off that Axe.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Smelling like sweat was definitely worse, he had to cover it up. 

“Let’s go, Haz!” Niall knocked on the roof of the car, waiting for Harry to unlock the passenger side door. 

“Yep. Just gotta…” Harry unlocked Niall’s door then slid into the driver’s seat. Niall rolled his window down. Harry pulled the sun visor down, checked his face in the mirror, and tried to arrange his hair to hide the pimples scattered across his forehead. 

“Seriously? Come on. Anne’s not going to care what your hair looks like at dinner.” Niall tapped his foot impatiently. 

“Fine! We’re going.” Harry flipped the visor back up and started the car, so he could drop Niall off before he drove to dinner. 

***

Harry let himself into the Tomlinsons’ home. He had a key, but he knew the door would be open and the house full. The first thing to hit him was the smell of something savory and robust, followed by the sound of shrieking laughter coming from the living room. He was pretty sure no one had heard him come in. 

“What smells so good?” he shouted from the foyer as he slid his feet from his sandals. 

Jay, his second mother, whom he loved as much as his actual mom, turned the corner from the kitchen and pulled him into a quick hug. “Perfect timing, dear. Was just about the pull the Beef Burgundy out of the oven.”

“My favorite.” 

“With the egg noodles too. Louis reminded me it was your favorite.” They moved further into the house together, Harry automatically following her back into the kitchen. “Thought you boys would need something hearty after practice.” Harry pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. 

Jay pulled the large ceramic pot from the oven and set it on a trivet on the counter. 

“Can I help with anything?” Harry offered. Both of his parents worked full time so proper home-cooked meals were few and far between. All of his kitchen knowledge came from following Jay around and helping her as needed. He spent so much time underfoot that by now he was quite proud of his skills. 

She turned off the burner under the boiling pasta and considered for a moment. “All done dear, but thanks anyway. Do you mind letting everyone else know it’s ready?”

Harry finished his water and put the cup in the sink before walking out. He took a single moment before he walked in the other room. One step. Pause. Exhale. Wipe palms on thighs. Lick lips to re-wet mouth. Run fingers through hair. Another step. 

The rest of the family—Harry’s mom, his stepdad Robin, Jay’s husband Dan, and Jay’s kids—were all settled in the living room. The adults, along with Fizzy and Lottie, who were both in middle school, were perched on the edge of their seats. They were watching Phoebe and Daisy, the five-year-old twins, twirl in the middle of the room. Harry faltered for a moment, blinked and scanned the room, doing a quick headcount. 

“Dinner—” Harry’s voice cracked on the word and he cleared his throat before starting again. “Dinner’s ready.”

Anne jumped up from one of the sets of chairs. “Sweetie, when’d you get here? We didn’t hear you come in.” She gave him kiss on the cheek. “Pheebs and Dais were just telling us about their upcoming recital.” 

“Can we show you?” they both squealed. 

“After dinner, kiddos. It’s time to eat,” Harry said. 

Robin and Dan stood too. “How was practice?” Robin asked. 

“Captain,” Dan added, as if everyone in the room wasn’t painful aware of how excited he was to be leading the team this year. 

“Good. Good to get back out there, you know.” Harry reached out with his right hand, then realized by the surprise on Dan’s face that he had never been so formal. Still, Dan’s expression slid into a relaxed smile as he grasped Harry’s hand and gave it a firm shake. He had never been one of those teenagers who shook hands. Right. So. No more shaking hands. It was just an embarrassing blip that he would not repeat. He hoped he had managed to keep that whole freak out from showing on his face.

Phoebe and Daisy had already run from the room, with Lottie and Fiz close behind. The rest of them trailed after, not needing to be first in line for food. 

“Oh,” Anne turned around, “H, Louis is up in his room; changing after practice. You mind running up there?”

Harry schooled his face. “Yeah, sure.” Louis was home. They would all be eating together. This used to be something that was so easy to do. 

He pounded up the stairs; hopefully Louis would hear his footsteps. He stood outside Louis’ closed door, reading the “10 Reasons to date a LAX player” poster for the millionth time, and tried to arrange his curls without a mirror. Harry’s mouth was dry and he wished he hadn’t left his pack of gum in the cup holder of the car. He knocked gently. “Hey, Lou?”

There was a muffled shout. “Come in!”

Harry let himself in. Louis stood by his closet with his back to Harry, then turned while pulling a hoodie over his head. 

Louis. 

Despite the navy and white Phillips Academy logo prominent on his chest, Louis was… perfect. Harry couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his face. It was tough to tamp down when other people were around, and he’d stopped trying when they were alone. 

Everything about Louis captivated Harry, but tonight it was his still-damp hair, oversized comfort clothes, and the smirk tilting his smile that drew Harry in. 

“Hey,” Louis barely whispered. He bit his lip as Harry crossed the room. 

He stood in front of Louis, taking in his bright blue eyes, and the gorgeous fan of his eyelashes. “Hey,” Harry quietly replied as he glanced down at Louis’ lips, and the way he gently tucked the lower one in his teeth. “Practice was okay?” He watched Louis’ chest lift with a breath. 

“You have me alone in my room and that’s what you want to talk about?” The smirk was back. 

Harry shook his head minutely as he leaned in and closed the distance between them. 

Their lips met and Harry gripped at Louis’ waist with one hand while he stroked the skin behind his ear with the other. Louis’ lips were soft and he let out a quiet whimper that Harry was sure he’d be embarrassed about if he brought it up later. They had been doing this for a little over a year and it hadn’t gotten old. He doubted it ever would. There was nothing else he’d rather be doing at any time than kissing Louis. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to be the one who got to do this. He’d heard enough stories to know that there were plenty of people interested in Louis, mostly girls, but also a handful of boys, who he could choose to be with instead of Harry. But Harry was the one who could make him laugh until he cried, the first person he called when he was upset, the one who got to _touch_ him. 

Harry’s grip on Louis tightened at that thought. But of course they didn’t have time for anything. He gave another press of the lips and pulled himself away. “Dinner.” His eyes flickered between Louis’ heavily-lidded eyes and back to his lips. He couldn’t resist another peck. “It’s ready. They’re probably, uh, waiting.” And one last kiss. 

Louis let out a whine when Harry pulled away for good and took a step toward the door.

“Think we can get some time later?” Louis asked. “It’s been days.”

Now it was Harry’s time to whine. “Fuck I really hope so.” His eyes dragged over Louis’ body again and his heart thudded with the need to draw closer, for skin on skin contact; it took all his strength to keep his hands plastered at his side. In the end he caved, again. He was a hopeless case. Harry grabbed Louis by the front pocket of his hoodie and pulled him in close, so he could smell the clean scent of his body wash and nuzzle his nose into the sliver of skin exposed at the neck. He inhaled deeply. The want was so visceral; it pained him that he couldn’t have this every day. 

“H-Harry,” Louis stumbled out. “Stop. Wait. I can’t… fuck.” He stepped away and Harry saw his hand press to his front as he turned his back to Harry. “Fuck, you always get me so hard.”

Harry’d had a semi since he’d been upstairs, even the _thought_ of seeing Louis and his blood ran south, but knowing he had this effect on Louis, that he _still_ had this effect on Louis, had him in the same awkward state. 

“Boys, dinner!” Robin yelled from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Coming!” Louis shouted back, already making his way towards the door. 

“Not soon enough,” Harry muttered as he adjusted himself. 

Louis’s affronted expression cracked into a smile. “Patience.”

Harry rolled his eyes and followed Louis into the hallway, hoping to calm himself before entering the room full of their families. 

His worry was unnecessary in the end. With everyone either already eating at the dining room table or focused on serving themselves in the kitchen, no one acknowledged Louis and Harry when they walked in. 

They served themselves and sat down in the two remaining chairs, unfortunately at opposite ends of the table, but at least in each other’s eye line. Harry tried to keep his eyes on his plate as he ate, but every time someone would ask him a question, he’d look up, and his eyes were drawn to Louis every single time. It was great when Louis was focused on his plate, Harry’s eyes flicked away quickly with no harm done, but when he’d look up and meet Louis’ eyes, the glance would steal his breath. Harry would struggle to look away and focus on the question, instead of Louis’ beauty. 

Dinner came to an end soon enough, and once the table had been cleared, Harry offered to rinse the dishes while Louis arranged them in the dishwasher. There were occasional touches, hands brushing together and lingering for a beat, that sent Harry’s heart racing while their parents fluttered around them, cleaning the rest of the kitchen. But moments after they finished, Jay swept the girls upstairs for baths and bedtime and with a quick round robin of hugs goodbye, Harry found himself outside and walking to his car without another private moment with his boy. 

After he turned on the ignition, Harry opened their text conversation to find Louis had already sent “Didn’t get a chance to tell you how hot you looked” followed by the heart eye emoji. The next text came as Harry was thinking about sending the kissy face emoji. “Already hard again thinking about you.” followed by the fist and eggplant emojis. 

Harry groaned and banged his head on the steering wheel out of frustration. “Wish I could help. I’ll be thinking of you tonight” he finally managed to type. He wondered how quickly he could get home and alone in his room. Probably not quick enough to have a proper sexting session before Louis was done. Maybe tomorrow their schedules would work out. 


	2. Chapter 2

The first game of the season was always nerve wracking. Harry woke up with a knot in his stomach that was still there at lunchtime, despite acing his Physics exam and spending his free period in the library covertly sending texts to Louis while ostensibly studying to retake his Calculus test. Louis hadn’t responded, which wasn’t unheard of, but was a rare occurrence. Phillips Academy had their first game that afternoon as well, so Harry hoped it was Louis’ nerves getting the best of him. All Harry could do was text some generic inspirational words, “Gl, kick some ass, baby !” and hope that Louis would get the messages soon. 

Since Louis’ lunch period was before Harry’s, there was always a text waiting by the time Harry got to lunch. Always. Other students thumped him on the back, wished him a good game, or offered shy smiles, while Harry walked the hot lunch line. When he reached the end of the line and hadn’t yet gotten a new message, he figured something was wrong.

Worrying about Louis definitely didn’t help the sickening feeling that made it hard to breathe, so he picked at his lunch, nauseated by the thought of eating it, even though he knew he’d need the energy later. He was sitting with his teammates who had lunch period at the same time. They were all rowdy and loud, already amped for the game that was hours away, and none of them seemed to be paying any attention to Harry, which was honestly fine with him. 

He pushed his food around his plate, breaking it up into smaller pieces that he’d occasionally nibble. Niall pushed his elbow into Harry’s side. “’Sup?”

Harry shrugged. “Nerves I guess. I’ll be fine by game time.”

“’Course you will,” Niall agreed. “Always are. I’d be more worried if you weren’t nervous.”

Harry let out a weak laugh. 

“You do need to eat though. Not much use to us if you aren’t running your hardest later.”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled and took a bite. “Better?” he asked with his mouth full. 

“So fucking gross. Don’t know why I’m best friends with you.”

“’Cuz you love me,” Harry trilled, before taking another bite. 

“No fucking way!” Eric, Xander’s best friend, shouted loud enough to get the attention of a few surrounding tables. 

“Epic. Totally Epic.” Xander nodded along, a few other players snickered.

“What?” Niall asked. “What’d we miss?”

“First prank of the season,” Xander bragged. Harry rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand why this was a thing every season—why couldn’t they just stay in their lane and play the game—but every year there was a group who claimed it was tradition and played a prank on the opponents of the first game. 

“Switched it up though, instead of pulling one on Fox Chapel, we got Phillips instead. That team is going fucking down this year. Thought we’d send a message, and I’m sure they weren’t expecting it at all.”

Harry thought the few bites he had managed to swallow were going to come back up. His stomach rolled as he thought of Louis. Of course he was being stonewalled. 

“What’d you do?” Harry aimed to keep his tone light, but by the look Niall was giving him he missed it by a mile. 

“Chill,” Eric scowled. “Nothing that’ll get us in any real trouble.”

“Jacked their cars.” Xander laughed. 

Harry sucked in a breath. “What do you mean, you ‘jacked’ their cars?” This was bad, bad, bad. 

“Calm your tits. We just jacked their cars up a bit and put a cinder block under the back axle so they couldn’t move. Nothing that a minute of work can’t undo. No harm, no foul.” 

Harry saw red. Louis was going to… Harry’s brain was spinning a mile a minute. He couldn’t even think about the worst thing Louis would or could do because of this. It was almost full-blown panic; bile rising, forehead sweating, hands shaking panic when he wondered if Louis’d break up with him over this. Harry knew his reaction wasn’t normal. No one else found the prank upsetting because it was harmless. It was. Unless you were Louis Tomlinson and your car was _your baby,_ your most prized possession, and the thing you valued above almost everything else. 

Once they’d driven to a different town to go to the movies together, some romantic comedy, and the car parked next to them had dinged the paint on Louis’ door. Harry couldn’t recall much of the movie because he remembered so vividly the the anger oozing out of Louis because of that little, minuscule scratch when they got back to the car. From then on, Louis always parked in a distant corner of parking lots, far from other cars, shopping carts, or other dangers to his baby. The idea that Louis might think that Harry was in on the prank made him sick. 

The other boys had all moved on to a different topic, someone had a new girlfriend, and Harry couldn’t be bothered to figure out who they were talking about. He pulled his phone out under the table and tapped out a message. “I swear it wasn’t me. Please don’t be mad.” He waited a moment and sent another: three red heart emojis. 

Under the table, his hands flipped the phone around and around; he was so jittery, he was going to shake right out of his skin. He tried to smooth his face into an approximation of cool, calm and collected, and attempted to focus on the conversation going on around him, instead of checking his phone over and over.

He failed. There wasn’t a new message, but his nervous movements caught Niall’s attention and he snatched the phone out of Harry’s hand before he had a chance to lock it. 

His heart stuttered while Niall looked at his messages. “I always knew you were a mama’s boy,” Niall laughed. “But this might be excessive, man.” Luckily, he wasn’t talking loud enough for anyone else to notice, but Niall had Harry’s full attention when he lunged at him to wrestle it back. 

“I’m not…” Harry didn’t really understand what Niall said, until he glanced down and remembered that Louis’ number was saved as the house emoji. Harry had never been more thankful for past Harry than in that moment. He decided not to argue about being a mama’s boy. No need to fight that unnecessary battle. “Leave me alone,” he pouted instead. 

“Fine. I’m sure Anne won’t be mad, but you definitely can’t miss the party tonight. I’d grovel so I wasn’t grounded too.” 

Harry doubted that. “Yeah, of course, the party. No chance I’m going to miss that.” Harry actually had other plans for after the game, unless Louis was going to bail on him now, but he’d make his excuses later. He pocketed his phone as the bell rang and the din of the cafeteria increased as hundreds of students rose from their seats. 

He hadn’t eaten near enough lunch, and felt even worse than he had at the beginning of the period. He cursed himself as he trudged to his next class, worried about how the rest of the day was going to play out. 

***

Whenever they won, the parties were epic, raging well into the night. Despite being an all-boys school, there were always a surprising amount of girls who showed up too. If they were looking to hook up, they were looking for someone from the winning team. Harry declined as politely as he could, which wasn’t hard when they were normally smashed and he was stone cold sober. Harry managed to lose Niall in the thrum of the crowd. Last he had seen him, Niall was doing a keg stand in the basement, to the delight of the crowd around him, and looked like he’d be busy for a while. Harry said a quick goodbye, claiming an early morning the next day, and made his escape. 

By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was bone tired. School, Louis’ continued silence, the game, and as much of the party as he could handle all had him ready to climb into bed and not leave until Sunday afternoon. He dragged himself into the house and all but collapsed in the front hall. 

There were quiet voices coming from the kitchen, so Harry decided to let his mom and Robin know he was home, that he was going to bed, and to ask them not to wake him in the morning. When he woke up he’d deal with the Louis situation right away, but he couldn’t think about it anymore tonight. Skipping lunch had come back to bite him in the ass. He was physically and mentally exhausted, and worried that if he reached out one more time without Louis responding he’d burst into tears. 

“Hey, Ma.” He turned into the kitchen and blinked a few times, because for some reason Louis, beautiful, wonderful Louis, who had ignored him all day, was sitting at his kitchen table with his parents. He tamped down on the shock of seeing him; he had reached his emotional limit and was pretty sure this was going to push him right over the edge if he didn’t get himself under control. He definitely was not going to sob in happiness.

His mom beamed proudly. “Oh good, you’re home. You did so well tonight.” 

“Yeah, it was a good game.” Harry wasn’t sure what was going on… he tried to figure out the odds of Louis breaking up with him right here in the kitchen. Because he looked… he looked totally fine, and not at all angry, which didn’t make any sense. 

“Anne was just telling me all about it. Can’t believe you got four assists.” Louis looked almost as proud as Harry’s mom. Harry blinked. Louis was still there, in his kitchen, looking impossibly fond which sent Harry into another emotional tailspin. His parents seemed to be focused on Harry though, not Louis looking at Harry. At least that was a small reprieve.

“Yeah, it was… we played really well. How was, uh, yours?” Harry swept his hair over his forehead, he knew those pimples were still there. His hair was probably a total mess after the day he’d had. 

“Good night, boys,” Anne interrupted before Louis could answer. “I’ll let you two catch up. Lou, you spending the night?”

Louis looked at Harry briefly, then back to Anne. “Yeah, if that’s alright. Dan dropped me off, so…” 

“You know you’re welcome any time, sweetie.” Anne kissed the top of Louis’ head, then Harry’s cheek on her way out. 

“Hi,” Louis whispered as he stood up. “Missed you today.”

There was a reason Harry hated roller coasters; that swooping off-balance feeling made him dizzy in an entirely unpleasant way. “Yeah, I… is everything okay? You didn’t—”

“Pheebs dropped my phone in the toilet. Before she flushed. Not getting another one until tomorrow.” Louis took a step towards him, linking their pinkies on one set of hands and running his knuckles down Harry’s other arm. 

Harry dropping his head on Louis’ shoulder. “I thought… well, it doesn’t matter now.” He nudged his nose into the side of Louis’ neck, behind his ear, his favorite part, despite the overwhelming smell of Axe. “Glad you’re here.”

“Okay with me sleeping over?”

Louis knew the answer. They had been sharing a bed since they were toddlers, and now that they were, uh, more intimate with each other, they took advantage of every sleepover opportunity they could. It was actually the only benefit to their parents not knowing they were together. “Always. Love when you sleep over.”

Louis hummed into Harry’s hair. “Love you.”

No matter how many times Louis told him, he still couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face at the declaration. 

“Love you too.” The stress of the day and the game dissipated and Harry relaxed further into Louis’ embrace. “They’re probably still awake. Couch?”

Louis nodded, turned slightly, and then as one unit with four legs tripping over each other and arms wrapped tight around each other’s waists, they somehow managed to walk into the living room. 

They fell onto the couch in a heap. Harry laid on his side, with his back against the couch cushions, snuggled in the crook of Louis’ arm, with his hand resting over Louis’ heart. While Louis gently scratched Harry’s scalp, he traced shapes on Harry’s hand and told Harry about his game. Even though Harry knew his mom had told Louis about his game, Louis insisted on hearing from him. Still high off their wins, they spent probably more than a healthy amount of time talking about the weaknesses of their opponents and how to exploit them. 

The worry that the other shoe was going to drop still hung over his head, though it seemed like Louis might not bring it up. “Car’s fine?” Harry finally blurted, interrupting Louis’ opinion on the Fox Chapel goalie. 

“What? Yes?” Louis looked thoroughly confused until his eyes went wide. “Wait, did you guys do that to Pinncock’s car?”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, _I_ didn’t… but I heard today that, um, something might’ve… uh… happened?”

“Fuck, man, he was so fucking angry. It’s probably a good thing he had no idea that it was you guys.”

“Not—”

“I know not you. But, you know…” Louis shrugged. “Fuck. Okay. I’m not going to say anything, just so you know. If he found out, I’m sure it’d be a full out war.”

After the house had been quiet for a while, Harry spoke up, “Wanna go upstairs?” He knew what that sounded like and gave Louis fair warning, “I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

“Yeah, sounds good babe. Think Robin will make pancakes in the morning?”

“If you ask, definitely.”

“Good, that’s the whole reason I’m staying over,” Louis joked. 

Harry swatted him with a pillow as Louis pulled him up off the couch. “Then you can sleep down here.”

Louis gave Harry an exaggerated pout and they made their way upstairs. 

Harry’s room was a mess, as always, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He stripped off his pants and threw them in the general direction of the hamper, turning in the process. It was possible he was never going to get sick of seeing Louis take off his clothes. He was already shirtless, his Phillips Academy t-shirt rumpled on the ground, and Harry took in the tanned skin of his torso as he bent over to pull his socks off. His back was a soft arc of muscle and Harry needed to touch. 

He pulled his own shirt over his head, not caring where it dropped on the floor, as he made his way over to Louis. He stood behind Louis and ran his hands over his back. Louis wiggled out of his track pants and Harry dropped his hands lower, one stopping at the dip of his waist and the other trailing down over his butt and running a finger across the back of his muscled thigh. 

Louis shimmied away with a quiet laugh. “Tickles, H.”

Harry had really planned on going straight to sleep, but now he was wide awake, and so was his dick; it was very interested in the almost naked, wiry boy in front of him. Louis wiggled his eyebrows when he noticed Harry’s interest. 

Harry arched one of his own. Louis’s boxer briefs weren’t hiding anything. 

They climbed into bed together. “Still planning on sleeping?” Louis asked. 

Harry kissed Louis’ neck, down to the dip of his collarbones, to his chest and abs. He ran a tongue back up, dipping past each muscle, and settled his mouth on one of Louis’ small nipples. “Nah, something more important came up.” 

Louis groaned. “Even for you that was awful.” He grunted when Harry raked his teeth along the nub. “What do you want to do, H?”

“Wanna suck you.” He adjusted himself so he was sitting back on his knees and hooked a finger from each hand on the waistband of Louis’ underwear. “Hand jobs will be too messy. Don’t want to get back up.”

“Never going to say no to that.” He lifted his hips and let Harry slid them down and off his legs, before tossing them to the floor. 

Harry took him down all at once, and got to work. He loved pulling noises from Louis; he was chanting a combination of grunts and Harry’s name that just made Harry want to work harder. After tensing up, Louis let out a high whine and came down Harry’s throat. Harry continued to lick and kiss his dick until Louis finally swatted him away. 

“My turn.” Louis flipped them and returned the favor. Once they were both sated, Louis curled against Harry, one hand centering his chest. 

“Hey, Harry?” Louis whispered into the space below Harry’s ear. 

“Hmph.”

“I know you’re tired… but there’s this thing I’ve been thinking about.” Harry blinked his eyes open. He turned his head and kissed Louis’ forehead. 

“Can’t wait until the morning?”

Louis was quiet for a long while. Harry almost finally drifted off. “I’d rather not.”

Harry hummed, so close to sleep that speaking felt like a chore. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Do you think we could…” His breath was warm on Harry’s neck. “Like, do you ever want to…”

“Babe,” Harry whined. 

“I want to come out to our families. I know we’ve talked about it, like, abstractly. But I just… I want us to be… _us_ around them.”

Last time they had talked about it, months ago, they decided to wait a little bit longer. If things didn’t work out between them, it would be uncomfortable enough between the two of them, and they were worried about how it might affect everyone else. In the dark of the night, lying together, he felt like he had everything he would ever want or need in his arms. He snuggled closer. 

“Yeah, Lou. Sure, if you want.” 

Louis giggled into his armpit and squeezed him tighter. “G’night, baby.”

Harry pressed another light kiss to his forehead. “Night, Lou.” 

***

Niall dragged Harry to the mall. It wasn’t that he hated the mall, but rather he was hoping to spend some time with Louis. Between school and practice and games, he’d seen Niall every day for two weeks straight, and hadn’t seen Louis since their quick goodbye kiss the morning after he slept over. Louis’ mouth had tasted like maple syrup and the promise of someday not needing to sneak off to a hidden corner. 

But Niall begged. And Harry was helpless when Niall begged, as it rarely happened. He was trying to plan the perfect promposal. He wanted to ask a friend of Eric’s who went to another school. They had been circling each other at the post-game parties for years, and this year he finally made his move. Niall called her an angel, the light of his life, the woman he was going to marry. Harry highly doubted all of that, but Niall was happy, and he’d never seen him so hung up on someone before; so Harry’d happily help Niall come up with a creative way to ask her to prom. 

“Come on, Harry. Just one more store. I’m sure I’ll find some inspiration in here.” They walked all around, idly looking at the merchandise, but Niall wasn’t finding inspiration in anything. 

After their third trip around the store, Harry was sure the saleslady was going to call security on them, since they clearly weren’t buying anything. As they wandering around, picking things up at random, Niall finally talked about something other than the new love of his life. 

“Hey, did you hear back from Syracuse yet?” 

Harry shook his head. “Coach says that the recruiter was impressed, but they haven’t sent out their letters yet.”

“I’m still waiting to hear from all of my schools too.” Niall growled in frustration. “There’s nothing here. Where else can we go?”

“I don’t know man. I’m fucking starving. Can we stop by the food court?”

“Yeah, I think I need some brain power to help me figure this out.”

Harry didn’t get why Niall needed to make such a big deal out of it. “Can’t you just ask her? Get her some flowers or something? You don’t even know what she’s into.”

“Low blow.” Niall tried to tap Harry’s balls in retaliation. “She deserves it. Like, if I’m doing this, I’m going all out.”

“Whatever, dude.” Harry wondered if he could get away with not going to prom at all. It was supposed to be one those super important nights you remembered for the rest of your life, but he was pretty sure that was only true if your date was someone you loved. He held in a snort. Like that would ever happen. 

As though Niall was reading his mind, he asked, “So who are you going to ask? I know you’re doing the whole ‘I’m concentrating on my grades and lacrosse. I just don’t have time for girls’ thing.'”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You do. I can ask Holly. She might have some available friends.”

Harry groaned. “Niall, I’m not going to prom with some random girl I don’t even know.” He paused and dropped his voice, maybe Niall wouldn’t even hear him. “Might not go at all.”

“What?” Niall shrieked. “Of course you’re going. We’re all getting a limo and we’ll have some sort of after party, it’s going to be sick. You have to go.”

Harry shrugged noncommittally. There was only one person he really wanted to go with, and there was zero chance of that happening. His team would probably disown him if they found out he was actually friends with Louis, let alone dating him. He swallowed down the thought of them finding out he was in love with Louis; it was too much to think about. 

“I’ll get some pictures from Holly. We’ll find you someone.”

“Styles! Horan!” As they entered the food court, a few of the guys from the team were already there, loudly commandeering a few tables. 

Harry and Niall wove their way through the crowded food court to their teammates. They all exchanged fist bumps and high fives, then Harry excused himself to wait in line at Panda Express. 

He made it back to the table at the end of the prom discussion. He was glad to not have to rehash his conversation with Niall in front of everyone. He kept his head down and focused on his food as the rest of the boys shot the shit, talking about some concert they were all hoping to get tickets to. 

Harry was slowing down, starting to feel full, and wondering if he could eat another bite, when there was a commotion in the middle of the table; a clump of boys whooping and hollering. 

“What’s going on?” he asked Niall, who had just joined in the ruckus. 

“Over there,” Niall tilted his head toward the Red Robin, “Tomlinson and Payne from Phillips.” 

Harry sucked in a breath. Of course Louis would come to the mall at the same time as him… even if he had no idea Harry was there. And of course he was wearing his letterman’s jacket. He wore the damn thing all the time. This was a disaster waiting to happen. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on, guys. Leave them alone.” 

No one seemed to have heard him above the shouts of “Hey, Tommo!” and “Phillips sucks!” and “I bet Liam’s a pain in your ass.” 

That insult brought laughter from the whole table, except Harry. “Seriously, people are staring at us.” He hunched over his plastic tray and tried to hide his face from the disapproving grandparents at the next table. He could control the team on the field, to an extent, but he had never been able to stop the assholes from showing their true colors in public. 

“Let’s go welcome them.” Xander always had the worst ideas. But Harry had no power to stop them as the rest of the table joined him and started making their way across the food court. Harry looked back at the trays and garbage left on the tables and sighed before following behind. 

By the time he got to the rest of his friends, they had made what was essentially a semicircle around Louis and Liam. 

Harry was praying that the guys wouldn’t use the f-word. He didn’t think they would get physical, but he knew Louis could be mouthy and Harry didn’t know how far he’d push Eric and Xander. He caught Louis’ eye, and he looked annoyed. Harry tried to convey that he was sorry, that he had tried to stop them, that, really, they weren’t _all_ awful, and maybe someday they could all be friends. He wasn’t sure any of that actually reached Louis. Harry looked down at his feet while his teammates continued with the smack talk. 

To their credit, both Louis and Liam were keeping their composure. Harry wondered how much of that was because he was there. It wouldn’t make any difference to Liam, but maybe he was taking his cues from the normally fierce Louis. They were both just standing there, taking it. 

“What? Cat’s got your tongue? Lost all your fight, huh Tommo?”

Liam finally snapped. “Don’t call him that.”

“Ooooh,” Eric said. “Boyfriend’s protective.”

Louis’ eyes flicked quickly to Harry and then to Niall. Harry stared into the distance. He didn’t dare look at anyone or move his face. His heart was pounding and he was suddenly aware that he might be sweating through his shirt. 

Laughter rang through his group of friends. Xander took a step forward, forcing Louis to take a step back too, so his back was almost against the wall. 

“Come on, dude. You don’t want to do this.” Louis _sounded_ so unaffected, but Harry saw the slight waver in his hands, the way he was picking at his back pocket. 

“Oh, but I think I do…”

Liam stepped up close into Xander’s space. “You really, really don’t.”

Xander faked like he was going to punch Louis and Harry’s heart stuttered to a stop. He inhaled sharply, going dizzy from the rush of oxygen, when Louis flinched. 

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on here?” The booming voice and heavy steps were coming fast behind Harry. He dragged his eyes away from Louis to see one of the mall security guards hurrying their way. 

“Break it up, boys. Break it up.”

“Next time…” Xander sneered.

The guard made his way through the group of boys, scattering them as he made his way to the center. Xander took a few steps back, his hands raised in submission. 

“Get outta here.” 

Xander lead them away, muttering something under his breath. Harry wanted desperately to look back, to see how Louis and Liam were fairing, but with Niall right at his hip, he didn’t dare. “That was wild,” Niall finally said under his breath. 

“Guess so.” Harry didn’t have any other words for Niall or anyone else on his team. He was practically shaking with the need to check in with Louis. To apologize for what just happened. 

Eric turned on them. “What? Afraid your perfect record is going to be marred?” He flicked the bill of Harry’s snapback. 

“Was just stupid. Looks bad for all of us. Do you know how much shit we’d be in if Coach found out? And for what? Nothing.”

“Yeah, well, they make the whole sport look bad.” The implication was clear, so Harry shut his mouth and kept his head down. A few more months and he’d be done with this team. With these assholes. 

Niall muttered something under his breath that maybe could’ve been “what a dick” or maybe “suck a dick.” Harry wasn’t sure and wasn’t about to ask. His head ached with a dull throb from clenching his jaw. 

“Ready to head home?” Niall brought him out of his head. 

Harry followed Niall out into the parking lot, then sat in silence on the ride home. 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had a straight shot to the goal. He pumped his legs and zigzagged across the grass, cradling the ball in his pocket. He pulled his arm back to shoot. One more goal and practice would be over, and he desperately wanted this victory. Before he was able to flick his wrist and launch the ball into the net, another stick came clanking down on his. The ball jolted out of his net and landed with a thud in the grass. Harry stopped immediately and pivoted, bending over to graze the length of the stick just above the ground. He and his opponent went for the ball at the same time, but Harry was a hair quicker, snapping it up and flicking a wrist shot into the empty goal. 

“No! Fucking hell.” Louis stomped his foot as Harry did a hip-shaking, fist-pumping celebration dance. 

“Three-Two. I win, again.”

“You got lucky.” Louis poked Harry in the stomach with the end of his stick, his smile barely contained. 

Harry pulled the stick in, bringing Louis close to his chest. 

“I’m up all night to get lucky,” Harry sang into Louis’ ear. 

Louis groaned as he leaned into Harry. He tilted his head up, and for a moment they caught each other’s eye. Louis’ eyes were so blue and bright in the afternoon sun. He was flushed, cheeks pink with exertion, and his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Harry ran his thumb across Louis’ jawbone to his ear, then pulled gently on a sweat-curled lock. 

Louis arched his back, stepping closer, and Harry’s eyes widened. They were in Louis’ yard, his whole family was right inside, and could see them from any of the windows along the back of the house. They stepped away from each other. 

“Best of five again?” Harry asked. He didn’t want the afternoon, and his time alone with Louis, to end. When they were racing with the ball up and down the yard, sticks clashing and swearing and checking each other, Louis’ little sisters never wanted to join in, and his parents rarely interrupted. It was just them, talking between goals and challenging each other to do better. Sometimes when they were too bruised after games they’d go for long runs instead, building stamina while talking about their future; but the two of them practicing on their own, one-on-one, was Harry’s favorite time with him. 

“Sure you can last that long?” asked Louis, king of innuendo.

Harry had no problem keeping up. “Can last all night.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Hm. Gonna have to prove that to me someday.”

“Next year,” Harry hummed. “Our own dorm room. No nosy parents.”

“No inquisitive sisters…”

“Just us, some beds, and hours of privacy.”

Louis stared at him for so long that Harry thought he was going say something else, but when he finally opened his mouth, he just licked his lips, and ducked his head. “Best of five.”

Harry scooped up a ball and walked to their makeshift center circle. “What do I get when I win?”

Louis laughed. “Nothing. ’Cause you’re not gonna win...”

They set the ball in the center, and poised themselves for the faceoff.

“No dickheads,” Harry said quietly. 

“What?” Louis mumbled around his mouthguard. 

Harry hooked his in the corner of his mouth and talked around it. “Sorry, just,” Harry spun his stick, “next year, together, away from those assholes. The like, mall thing that happened.” Harry shrugged an embarrassed apology. 

Louis stepped out of his lunge and stood up. “They’re fucking pricks. Can’t wait until karma fucks them up. But like, there’s probably always going to be dicks.”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh really?”

Louis punched him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do, but we’ll be together. Us against the world.” Harry knew he had his dopey smile on his face that Louis normally gave him shit for. 

“Today it’s me against you.”

“Let’s do it.” Harry popped his mouthguard back in. 

They battled for control of the ball; Louis finally came up as the winner. He cradled the ball just out of Harry’s reach, dodging Harry’s stick each time he lunged for it. Harry slowly pushed him upfield, one step at a time. It was maddening. He knew Louis was taunting him, a single juke and he’d be sprinting down the field. But he was apparently content to move closer and closer to Harry’s goal, which was making Harry more impatient. One good hit and he’d pop the ball loose and be only steps away from an empty net. 

“Let’s raise the stakes.” Louis’ voice was low and Harry wasn’t sure if he was trying to rile him up or was hoping Harry wouldn’t hear him. 

Harry pounced. “What do you have in mind?” But Louis was still too quick and easily pivoted to the other side. 

“However many,” Louis faked direction again, “goals we each score, that’s how many times we each get off tonight.”

Harry hated when Louis was a tease. “Yeah, you up for getting me off three times tonight? Think you can handle it?”

Louis faked left then spun around, and shot off like a rocket, down the field. Harry’s heart pounded as he raced after him. One well placed strike against the head of his stick and Harry would have control again. But they had been playing together long enough that Louis could anticipate all of Harry’s moves. He stopped short, throwing Harry for a loop as he tried to keep from cross-checking him, then picked up speed as he sprinted toward the goal. Harry hustled again, but Louis was too quick for him. He easily flung the ball in the top corner of the goal. 

Louis leaned against the goal post as Harry dug in the netting to get the ball out. After Harry untangled it, Louis put a hand on his shoulder and whispered behind his ear, “First time I come, want it to be from your mouth.”

“Oh, fuck.” Harry laughed. “You’re playing dirty. Don’t get me hard.”

“Not my fault if I’m a dirty boy…” Louis fluttered his lashes at Harry and sauntered back to the center. Harry was pretty sure Louis would let him come every time he did, but just in case he figured he needed to up his game. 

He pushed himself, but Louis still managed to blow past him and scored a second goal. Harry was wiping the sweat from his brow with a corner of his shirt when Louis said, not bothering to whisper, “Hmm. Looks like I’m also going to get off with your fingers buried in me.”

“Louis,” Harry chastised. “You can’t just…” He looked toward the house then back at Louis. “Someone could’ve heard you.” 

Louis shrugged, as if that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and turned quickly, jogging back to the center. Harry took another look at the house. All the windows were closed and he couldn’t see anyone watching them. But still. They had to be careful. 

Their heads were close as they faced-off. It was Louis’ turn to count to three, but instead he whispered, “Not wearing underwear either. Could just throw me down and start fingering me right here.” Before Harry could even think about the impossible logistics involved with that, Louis quickly added, “One. Two Three.” 

He got the jump on Harry and controlled the ball the whole time. Which, unfortunately for Harry, meant that Louis scored a third goal, making him the winner. Instead of following their rules and retrieving the ball, Harry laid flat on his back in the grass, chest heaving, and panted. 

Louis plopped down beside him, also gasping for breath. “Tonight… is gonna suck for you… Feeling me come on your cock… Then pulling out and… not getting to come yourself.” 

He smacked Harry’s stomach, then scrambled to his feet. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

Harry laid there until his breathing had evened out. This was going to be the hardest—pun intended—night of his life.

***

While Louis showered, Harry waited in the kitchen with Jay. He could hardly turn down a glass of fresh lemonade. He was rinsing his glass when he heard the Louis call down that he was done. “That’s my cue.” He thanked Jay again for the lemonade and ran up the stairs. 

By the time he reached the landing he was already over thinking their interaction. 

“Hey Lou—” he barged through Louis’ door, “can I ask you something?”

Louis was completely naked, standing by his dresser, and rubbing a hand towel through his hair. 

“Jesus!” Harry spun around so he was facing the open doorway, quickly shut and locked the door, and didn’t turn back around. 

“I know my dick is intimidating, but you’ve seen me naked, like, a billion times.”

“No, I know, but… um…” Harry heard a drawer open and shut. “I just… I was talking to your mom… drinking lemonade. And when you called, I ran up here.”

Harry slowly peeked over his shoulder; Louis was in trackpants with his school’s logo and pulling a henley over his head. “Well you stink. She was probably glad you did.”

“No, but um, what if she thought I was coming to, you know, see your… pieces.”

“Did you just call my dick pieces?”

Harry flapped a hand in the general direction of his crotch. “Yes. Not the point.”

Louis laughed, it was slightly hysterical and he finally covered his mouth with his hand. “Um. I don’t… Why would she think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should’ve waited a few minutes, like, to make sure you were dressed before I came up.”

Louis flopped himself on the unmade bed. “I’m sure that wouldn’t even be on her radar.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You smell. Shower’s that way.” Louis snapped his damp towel at Harry’s legs. 

After his shower, Harry’s head felt clearer and he was sure that Louis was right. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Louis was lounging on his bed. His hair was still wet, lying flat against his head, and he was kneading a blanket which was half in his lap, twisting the corner in his hands. He didn’t even look up when Harry walked in, half naked. 

“So I was thinking…” 

Harry opened the drawer that held the small collection of clothes he kept there, and shimmied into some shorts and an oversized tank. “What were you thinking?”

“What if she did know?”

Harry wasn’t following. “Who? What?”

“My mom. Like, if she knew… about us.”

“Okaaaaay…” Harry drew out the last syllable as he tried to formulate another response. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Why?”

Louis shrugged. He was still supremely interested in the blanket. 

“I mean… we had talked about… like… college. Do you want…?” Harry didn’t know where this was coming from. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him and he was sputtering and trying to get his bearings. 

Louis shrugged again. 

“Lou.” 

He finally looked up. His bottom lip was red from where he had been biting it and he looked so, _so_ scared. Harry’s chest hurt. There was no reason for Louis to ever be nervous around him. Harry dropped the towel on the floor and joined Louis on the bed. He loosened Louis’ hold on the blanket from his hands and adjusted them so they were sitting facing each other, cross-legged, Louis’ hands in Harry’s. 

“Lou. Do you want to come out to your, our, family?”

Louis shrugged again. 

“No. Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Maybe we could talk about it? Like, I’m not… this isn’t… wouldn’t be a…. a deal breaker. But, like, I kind of want to, like, soon?”

When Harry didn’t respond for several seconds, Louis dropped his head again. 

“No, baby. It’s not… I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you were—”

“I hate lying to my mom.”

That was actually one of the things about Louis that Harry knew without a single doubt. He was never able to deceive her, even when they were four-years-old and decided to draw a mural on the dining room wall with permanent markers. 

“And you were so worried,” Louis continued, “when you came up here. Which seems… unnecessary. She loves you. It’s not like she’d forbid you to see me or anything.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry hadn’t even thought of that. Now that Louis mentioned it, it was another thing to worry about. Sure, Jay and Dan liked him. But would they think he was good enough for Louis. He was so busy trying not to blow their cover, that he completely glossed over the more mundane worries. 

“Do you want to like, _come out_ come out?” Harry still wasn’t sure exactly what Louis was getting at.

“Maybe?” Louis was back to gnawing on his lip. “I’d really like to tell our families. Maybe, like, some close friends?”

Harry’s heart jack rabbited. That was definitely something they had agreed they didn’t want to do.

“That’s not… I don’t think I can.” The thought of anyone, his team, fuck, _Xander_ , finding out made his blood run cold. That just wasn’t in the realm of possibility. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Louis took a deep breath and looked toward the mess on the floor. “It was just a… a stupid idea.” 

“No.” Harry hated seeing Louis upset. He was usually the one making sure everyone else around him was happy, and was always ready with a smile. “Not a stupid idea.” He took Louis’ head in his hands, his thumb gently hooked under Louis’ chin and his fingers stretched behind his ear and pulled softly enough that Harry could look in his eyes. They were welling with tears. 

“Baby.” 

“No, it’s…” Louis was doing his ‘this is embarrassing, let’s play it off like it’s not a big deal’ face, scrunching his nose and shaking his head a bit. “I don’t even know why I said anything. Can you just…” a look of panic flashed on his face, “you have to pretend I never said anything. It really doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“No. Stop.” He wiggled away from Harry’s grasp. 

“Lou.”

“Seriously. Not a big deal.” He was almost at the bedroom door. “Dinner’s gotta be ready, right?”

Harry was on his feet and standing close behind Louis in a moment. He knew once Louis had moved on it and dismissed it, it would be nearly impossible to bring the topic back. “Lou, really. Please look at me.”

Louis sighed, but didn’t turn around. 

Even the idea of telling their friends sent a wave of ice through Harry’s blood. The thought of telling their families, that felt different… Harry was confused at first, but not afraid, just caught off guard. Now that he had a minute to digest it, it was a scary, but freeing prospect. He didn’t really think anyone in either of their families would have a problem with them being gay or dating each other. He had lost track of the number of times he wanted to curl up with Louis, tucked under his arm, on Family Movie Nights. For so long he wanted to link their pinkies on top of the dinner table instead of under it. Once he had allowed himself to think of the possibilities, he craved it. 

“I think… the family.” Harry ran his hands down Louis’ arms, then squeezed his wrists.

“H.” Louis dropped his hand from the knob but kept his back pressed against Harry’s chest. “I feel like I’m pressuring you. That’s literally the worst reason to do it.”

“That’s not why. I was just surprised. I thought I’d be giving you a blowjob, not talking about… all of this. And I’m not… school is one thing. That’s not…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not ready for that. But our families.” He wrapped his arms around Louis, squeezing him tight. He firmly pressed his lips against Louis’ temple. “Let’s find a good time to tell them. Soon.”

Louis sagged a bit in his arms. “Don’t… Are you sure?”

Harry easily turned him around and pressed Louis’ back to the closed door. “Yeah, baby, I’m sure.” He dove in for a kiss, a hard, insistent kiss, trying to press into Louis’ mouth just how sure he was, how much he loved him, that he was ready for this step. He pulled away slightly to make sure Louis got the message. “Love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Louis gave him a tentative smile, pressed their foreheads together. 

“We’re going to do this.”

Louis pulled him into a bone crushing hug that Harry wasn’t expecting. He gulped in a breath when Louis let him go, and the smell of Jay’s dinner hit him. 

“But really, dinner smells amazing and I’m starved. Can I please blow you after? Like my own personal dessert.”

Louis laughed. That was more like it. “Why do I put up with you?” He tweaked one of Harry’s nipples, which made him go a little weak in the knees. Louis headed down to dinner, and Harry waited until he was halfway down the stairs before following. 

***

“Harry! You’re the only one who hasn’t spilled the beans.”

“Oh, what now?” Harry looked up from his lunch tray. He’d been paying more attention to stirring the soggy mixed vegetables into his mashed potatoes than to the conversation surrounding him. 

“Prom,” Eric droned. “Who are you taking?”

“Yeah,” Xander pushed. “We’re all curious. Everyone else already has their dates lined up.”

Harry stirred his potatoes and looked around. he whole table’s attention was on him. “Um, I’m… still deciding.”

“Yeah?” Niall looked genuinely curious and Harry wanted so badly to tell him the truth. To pull him aside and get rid of the pressure of the secret that was wearing him down. He wondered if he could really trust Niall, if their friendship was as strong as he thought it might be. If he’d be willing to keep Harry’s secret. 

Harry gave him a weak smile. “Yeah.”

Someone Harry didn’t know very well, a sophomore on the baseball team, wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, “Who’re the lucky ladies?” 

Harry gave him a tight-lipped smile, while contemplating his response. Seeing as they’d never really had a conversation, he wasn’t sure why this guy felt the need to pry. Harry wanted to, but would never, tell him to fuck right off. Or he could stand up and walk away, make up some bullshit excuse that everyone would see through. He could name a friend, it’s not like anyone would really know, or pull the old ‘I have a girlfriend in Canada’ song and dance. But, he knew he’d do what he always did, be as vague and evasive as possible, and try not to let them get under his skin. 

Telling the truth was not an option. 

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

There was a smattering of laughter at the opposite end of the table from Xander and Eric. 

“Something funny about that?”

“Eric was just saying he’s never seen you kiss anyone. Was wondering if you’ve ever gotten any.”

Harry wanted to punch Xander right in his smarmy face. Instead he tried to look unaffected. “Some of us aren’t into PDA, man. Doesn’t mean I’ve never kissed anyone. Just means I actually respect them enough to keep it quiet.” 

Xander whispered something to Eric, who started cackling. “Probably is, ask him.”

Everyone at the table was staring, their eyes moving from one side to the other, like some sort of verbal tennis match. Harry wished he’d stood up and walked away. 

Harry knew what they were going to ask before they opened their mouths again. 

“We were wondering, if you’re… you know…” 

They paused, as if Harry, or anyone else at the table was going to fill in the blank. 

“We thought maybe you’re gay.” Xander finally finished, possibly oblivious to, but probably thriving on the awkward silence. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added with a condescending smile.

Everyone’s heads collectively whipped from Xander’s end of the table to Harry’s. 

Harry had always thought he was the kind of guy who stayed true to himself. He considered himself an honest person. Of course, he had his secrets like everyone else. He wasn’t ashamed of them, they just weren’t anyone else’s business.

When he was a few years younger, trying to navigate puberty, figure himself out, and decide what all of his feelings towards Louis meant, he spent a lot of time wondering how he’d react in a situation like this. He thought about what his answer would be if someone asked him point blank. He’d spent hundreds of nights lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and mouthing answers to see how they felt. ‘Yeah,’ he’d whisper into his dark bedroom with a shrug. He’d imagine sustained eye contact while answering, ‘You got a problem with that?’ Or ‘Maybe I am, what’s it to you,’ if he was feeling sassy. He had mini-speeches that touched on why it’s an unacceptable question, skirting around the issue with a non-answer. ‘Even if I was, I wouldn’t suck your cock’ to those who were particularly persistent. None of them, ever, a lie. 

“Nah,” Harry said. He went back to pushing around his potatoes, now dotted with muted colors, trying to keep his breathing even. “Not interested in dudes.” 

Niall cleared his throat and focused his attention on Xander and Eric. “I know you’re not trying to pull some homophobic shit, right? I have gay cousins. And friends. And I’m sure your tone wasn’t insinuating they’re anything ‘less than.’”

Harry tamped down on his smirk. He glanced up to see them both rolling their eyes. 

Xander opened his mouth to plow on, despite Niall. “Not even that asshole, Tomlinson?” he needled. 

Harry’s blood ran cold. 

“Yeah, your families are always sitting together at our games,” Eric tacked on. 

“You know they’re old friends,” Niall explained. “I don’t know why you’re being such dicks.”

The random sophomore must’ve had a death wish or something since he was the one who replied. “Still waiting for Harry to answer the question.”

That pushed Niall over the edge. “Fuck you. And fuck anyone that thinks Harry, who gives his _all_ to this team, would date someone on that piece of shit team. Show your captain a little respect, dickheads.”

Right. Well. At least he knew where Niall stood on that subject.

Niall looked around the table. “And hey, in case it wasn’t abundantly clear, I love all you fuckers.” Harry allowed himself a little chuckle. “Don’t care who’s sucking your dick, or if you’re sucking someone else’s, or if you don’t want anyone sucking yours at all. We’re a damn good team and that’s all that matters. I’m proud to share a locker room with all of you.” 

Harry swallowed down his smile, while the rest of the table laughed. Niall was honestly one of the best people he knew, but Harry was still afraid he was going to give away too much. Niall knocked his knee against Harry’s and changed the subject. 


	4. Chapter 4

The chorus finished singing the anthem and alma mater and shuffled off the field as the crowd erupted in cheers from both sides of the stands. Exter, as the home team, had their bleachers packed full, but Phillips Academy had brought a formidable throng of supporters, including crowd-riling cheerleaders, and the combined roar was loud enough that the Coach had to yell to be heard. 

Both teams were going into the game undefeated, and everyone considered this match-up to be the game of the season. Not only would the winner claim the number one ranking, while the other dropped to second place, but there was also a year’s worth of bragging rights resting on the outcome. Harry swished a sip of water around his mouth before spitting it out and popping in his mouthguard. 

“Strong passes, outrun them, stick by your man!” Coach yelled. 

Niall nudged Harry with his elbow, then angled his head toward the cheerleaders. “See the brunette on the end?” Niall said as quietly as he could. “The one in the split?” 

Harry nodded. 

“That’s Holly. Soon-to-be prom date.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and he spat out his mouthguard. 

“You’re taking someone from Phillips?” It was uncommon for someone from Exter to date someone from Phillips. But an athlete? Taking one to prom? That was unheard of. 

Niall shrugged. “She’s fucking hot as hell. And super cool.”

Harry thumped his back. “Happy for you, dude.”

Harry tried to keep himself from looking over to their opponents, because he knew his eyes would be drawn to Louis. He mostly succeeded, though at one point caught a glimpse of him, easily recognizable to Harry, even wearing thick pads and a caged helmet. He’s pretty sure he’d find Louis in any crowd. Someone else from Phillips had his helmet pressed against Louis’ helmet, they were standing almost chest to chest, pumping each other up for the game. An irrational bolt of jealousy surged in Harry’s stomach, so he turned away. 

He needed to keep his focus on his team and his coach and winning this game in front of his crowd. Impossible as it seemed, he had to completely push Louis out of his head, like every single other game he’d played. Harry thought maybe it would be a little easier once the game started, and he was in the zone with his focus zeroed in on the ball and his teammates. 

It wasn’t. 

They met in the center of the field to shake hands in front of the ref as he rattled off how he expected them to play a clean game. It was surely the only time during the game they’d touch, skin to skin, and Harry hoped no one in the stadium could tell just how much the simple touch affected him. Louis raised his eyebrows quickly, something he often did in the backyard before face-offs, with his hip popped and a smirk on his face, challenging Harry to bring it on. Harry returned the look, and for a moment the whole stadium fell away as Louis mouthed ‘good luck’, then he was walking away and Harry was sliding his glove back on. A moment later the whistle blew and the game started. 

As it tended to be with high school rivalries, and like every other time the two teams met, the game was fierce. The boys tiptoed along the edge of brutality as they checked and slashed and tripped each other. More than once the ref had to break apart two players who, left to their own devices, would probably rip off their helmets and fistfight like it was an amateur boxing hour. Both teams had more than their fair share of penalties.

Going into halftime with a tied score, Coach was about to blow a gasket in the locker room. While he was thrilled with their passion, he was more concerned about them wasting precious minutes on stupid penalties. They needed to play smart. Harry nursed his wounds, bandaging a few minor cuts and wincing at some blossoming bruises. Now that his adrenaline wasn’t pumping, he could process how hard he’d been pushing himself. 

The team came back out to the second half fueled by fire. 

When they jogged back out to the field and got into position prior to the starting whistle, Harry glanced at Louis to see his face set, and even through the face mask, his jaw was clenched and determined. He didn’t even flick his eyes in Harry’s direction. 

A few minutes into the third period, Harry thought he might know why Louis looked so angry. Harry was setting up a pick, standing near Liam, when Xander ran by Liam and called him a fag. Liam’s eyes flashed with anger as he ran toward Harry, who muttered, “What the fuck?”

“Homophobic assholes.” Liam crosschecked Harry hard enough that he stumbled, and even through the haze of anger and adrenaline and the protection of the padding, he knew he was going to have a wicked bruise across his upper stomach. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain as the whistle blew and Liam got his first penalty of the game. 

Harry couldn’t really blame Liam, when he was just as pissed at his own teammate. Instead of getting into position, he jogged over and hissed, “You need to shut the fuck up. We don’t have to sink so low. Play smart and we got this.”

Xander rolled his eyes and Harry doubled down, despite Coach’s screams that he get his head out of his ass. “Don’t make dumb mistakes. Don’t try to bait them. We’re better than that, better than them. We can win without being assholes.” 

Harry was so caught up in his rant that he missed the progress Phillips was making down the field, and snapped back to the game just in time to watch Louis flick a backhanded shot right past their goalie. 

“Styles!” Coach yelled. “Get over here.” He half pushed Harry’s substitute onto the field as Harry jogged off. 

The short-handed goal never should’ve happened and Harry knew he was about to reamed out by Coach. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Harry shook his head. Neither of them would have the patience for an explanation now, so he waited out his punishment on the sidelines as patiently as possible. He was still jogging in place and keeping his muscles warm because he knew Coach would put him back in soon. 

He was finally allowed back in at the start of the fourth quarter. They were still trailing by one, and Harry knew he could change the direction of the game if he just focused and poured all of his anxious energy into playing hard. 

He was sprinting down the field, chasing a few feet behind the Tomlinson jersey. Harry had worn it once, after he called himself Louis’ biggest fan and begged him to come over. Louis had shown up with the jersey stuffed in a plastic grocery bag and after Harry’s parents went to sleep, Harry had ridden Louis on the couch in the basement game room while wearing nothing but the jersey. 

Harry let his mind wander a bit more, wondering when he could convince Louis to do that again, when he watched Eric blindside Louis. He hit him with his shoulder, low and moving up, right in the side of Louis’ ribcage. The hit knocked Louis off his feet, sending him flying, and he landed with a sick thud on his back. When he didn’t immediately hop up to chase after the ball, Harry’s stomach dropped. 

It felt like an eon until the ref noticed and blew his whistle; a few players were already running over to check on him. Louis lay there motionless, surrounded by navy and white jerseys, dirty with grass stains and smears of dirt, and Harry stood as close as he dared while the ref knelt down next to Louis. The athletic trainer pushed through the circle, yelling for everyone to step back and give him space. 

Eric and Xander exchanged a fist bump as they made their way back to the bench to wait for the field to clear. Harry felt sick. He could see Louis moving, so he felt less panicked, but that was a hell of a hit and Harry was itching to make sure Louis was okay. He finally got to his feet with help on either side of him, and the athletic trainer acted as a crutch as he made his way off the field. 

The crowd stood and clapped when Louis stood up, but Harry made his way to the ref. “He going to be okay?”

“Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of him.” Then the ref must have realized who he was talking to and added, “We’re calling everything from this point on. Tell your guys to knock it off.” 

Harry nodded dumbly and started a chain of telephone to let the players down the field know not to play so aggressively. 

The game ended with Harry’s mind still in a fog, wondering when he’d get to talk to, and touch, Louis again. 

His mind cleared when he entered the locker room. Coach and most of the team jumped down his throat immediately, accusing him of slacking off in the fourth quarter. Harry tried to defend himself and tell them about the ref’s warning, but the sting of defeat was too new and raw for anyone to listen to reason. Harry felt bad enough as it was, he knew he didn’t play his best and of course he was distracted. The added pressure and accusations were making him angry. 

He slammed his locker shut and left without saying goodbye to anyone. 

As soon as he was outside in the cool night air, he pulled his phone out and texted Louis. “How you doing? Can I come over?”

The three dots in the bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and after sitting in his car for ten minutes with no response, Harry finally drove himself home, trying to think of some way to make this up to Louis. 

***

The next morning Harry awoke with a jolt of pain; he must have jostled something in his sleep. He stumbled to the bathroom, swallowed down a few Tylenol, and climbed back into bed. His whole body ached and, even though it was still dark outside, he wasn’t sure he was going to be be able to fall back asleep. 

He unplugged his phone from the charger next to his bed and saw that Louis had finally texted him after he fell asleep. “I’m okay. Sucked that I couldn’t finish the game.” “Mom’s worried I have a concussion. Don’t think I do.” “Sorry you couldn’t come over. Mom was pissed. GL at dinner tomorrow.” “Xo love you.”

Harry groaned and dropped his arm to the mattress, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. For sure he was going to hear it from Jay. Opting to go home instead of the post-game party meant that he had already gotten an earful from his own mom the night before. 

He had gotten home from the game and she was in a rare mood. While she made him a quesadilla and he drank a protein shake, he listened to her rant about “those awful boys” and how she couldn’t believe how rough they had played and “where were their parents?” As though they hadn’t been sitting next to her on the bleachers at every practice and game since elementary school. 

“Were you sitting with Jay?” The ‘and the rest of the family’ wasn’t necessary. 

“Yes. And thank god. She nearly had a heart attack when that brute tried to take off Louis’ head.” Harry shook his head. It was a dirty play, for sure, but his mom knew by now that lacrosse was a dirty game. 

“Let go of the pearls and unclench, Ma.” His mom flipped the quesadilla in the pan, looked up, and raised one eyebrow. “Sorry, that was rude.” 

She nodded, satisfied with his apology. “I’m just saying it was a good thing I was there to look after the kids when she ran down to the waiting ambulance while the EMTs checked him out.”

“So, uh,” Harry cleared his throat. He didn’t want to give anything away. “Louis’ okay?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. Big bruise, sore ribs. He’ll need to take it easy for a few days.”

Good. That was good. 

“You’ll have to apologize to Jay for your team’s behavior tomorrow at dinner.” 

“Mom!” Harry whined. “Jay knows it’s a tough sport. Lou’s a fighter. He’ll be fine.” That had been Harry’s mantra. 

“It’d be the polite thing to do…”

He could feel the disappointment radiating off his mom the rest of the night until he went to bed. 

Harry’s stomach growled, that quesadilla felt like ages ago. He wondered if he could get someone to make him bacon and eggs. Harry couldn’t find a comfortable position with his shoulder, so he decided to get up. 

He replied to Louis “Congrats on the win” and then “Can’t wait to see you tonight. Xo”

Harry knew that, because he was captain, Louis’ whole family was going to hold him accountable for his team being a bunch of jackasses. 

The sun was slowly starting to peek into his windows while he stretched with a painful groan, and then went to take a long, hot shower. 

The day didn’t get much better. The whole school seemed to be defeated after the loss, and Coach pushed them extra hard during practice, to “make up for their lousy showing yesterday, ‘buncha pussies.’” The only shining spot, the one thing that kept him going, was knowing he’d be seeing Louis after he trudged through his day. 

He let himself into the Tomlinsons' house after his long day, and nearly ran into Daisy, who was in the middle of a game of hide and seek with the youngest twins. 

“Lou’s upstairs and he’s cranky. Fix it, please.” She rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, what?” Harry laughed. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s always stupidly happy around you and I’m sick and tired of him being grumpy.”

“Oh.” Well, then. 

He skirted around her and passed through the kitchen on his way upstairs. “Hey, Jay.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I want to apologize for…”

“Nonsense. It wasn’t your fault. I better never find the rest of the boys or I might not be able to control myself, but I know you’d never.” 

Harry certainly knew where Louis got his flair for the dramatic. He laughed as she shook her fist in the air and stuck his tongue out at his mom, who was watching their interaction from across the kitchen. 

“Upstairs?”

“Yes, dear. Please go cheer him up. I fear you’re our last hope. And honestly we should’ve known to start with you.”

Harry climbed the stairs, nervous to see how Louis was really doing, while thinking about what Daisy and Jay had said. He knocked softly before letting himself in. Louis was in his bed, lying on his side, facing away from the door. “That better be Harry. Otherwise, go away.”

“So the rumors are true.” Harry gently shut the door behind him. 

“That I’m on my deathbed. Knew I couldn’t keep it from you forever.”

“Nah, that I’m the only one who can cheer you up.”

Louis tried to sit up, but Harry had sat next to his knees, on the edge of the bed. He gently pushed Louis back down on the bed.

“Nasty things, rumors.” Louis pouted. 

Harry gently lifted Louis’ shirt to see the mottled blue and purple bruise. He ran his fingers, barely touching, over the skin, up to the trimmed hair under his arm. Louis shivered at the barely there touch. 

Harry helped him sit up and kissed the shell of Louis’ ear. “Can’t believe you guys beat us.”

“Can’t believe you have to play with a bunch of homophobic dicks.”

Harry shook his head. “Of course you can believe it. Been telling you for years.”

Louis scratched his nails through the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. “I know, babe. Sorry.”

Harry gave shrugged one shoulder. Nothing they could do about it. “Mmm, been waiting to kiss you.” Harry drew him in with his hand cupping Louis’ chin. Louis’ lips were dry and perfect and Harry could spend hours tasting them. 

“Seriously though…” Harry pulled back after a series of small pecks. “It sucks that I had to practically beg everyone for info on how you were feeling. Everyone seems to know that I make you the happiest.”

“Careful of that ego.”

“You denying it?”

“Never. You’ll always be my favorite.”

“So I think we should come out. Tell them about us.” Harry bit his lips. 

Louis put a hand on his knee to stop its bouncing. “Yeah? You sure?”

Harry nodded. It was nerve wracking, but he was pretty sure it was going to go well. And he wanted to do it while he still had the balls. 

They walked down the stairs together, and settled down at the table with everyone else, this time landing seats directly across from each other. 

“So, Louis,” Anne asked, “are you going to prom?”

“Oh,” Louis cleared his throat, eyes wide with panic. “I don’t… I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think Harry is either.” Harry _loved_ when his mom spoke about him like he wasn’t there. “Hasn’t introduced us to a girl yet, must be hard at an all-boys school. I keep telling him that he could take a friend. Or go with a group of guys.” 

Harry looked up from his plate and made eye contact with Louis.

Dan jumped in, “Both of these boys. Too interested in lacrosse. Guess there’s not time for anything else, huh?”

Louis loudly exhaled with a huff. 

Harry cocked his head in a silent question. Louis responded with a slight nod. 

“Actually, Dan—” 

“Everyone.” Harry added.

“Yeah, um, everyone. Uh…”

Harry couldn’t draw his eyes away from Louis. He was afraid he’d lose his bravery if he had to look at anyone else. 

Louis continued to stall, “I’m…” 

Lottie let out a little gasp. 

“We’re…” Harry clarified. 

Louis quirked one side of his mouth in a smile. “We’re, um, actually…”

“Gay.”

There was a collection of gasps. Jay’s jaw dropped, then almost immediately she tried to school her face. Robin’s soft ‘what?’ almost went unnoticed as it wasn’t as loud as Dan’s drawn out ‘ohhh.’ Finally Anne’s chair scraped the tile as she stood and made her way over to give Harry a hug from where he was still awkwardly sitting. Then she walked around to Louis and did the same. By then the others had gotten over their shock, and Harry could see them all processing. 

“Together?” Lottie asked. “You’re like, gay together, right?”

The table stilled and the room went silent, everyone’s attention was focused on the boys, their eyes passing back and forth between them. Louis turned to Harry and smiled so big that his whole face seemed to light up. Harry felt a flush rise to his cheeks. It was the first time he’d get to say it. “Yeah, Louis is, uh, my boyfriend.” 

There was more processing from the adults; Harry could practically hear their gears turning. The twins let out a simultaneous “gross” and Fizzy softly punched Daisy in the arm. “Is not.”

Jay was first to stand this time, cooing that they made such a handsome couple, as she distributed hugs. The other parents followed, despite their initial shock at the announcement. 

“Wait,” Robin asked above the celebration happening around him, “so, you are going to prom?”

Harry’s celebration was brought to a halt. “Oh. No. No. No, it’s… No, that’s not going to happen.”

Louis’ brow furrowed minutely then smoothed out. “We’re not telling people. Not yet,” Louis said. 

“We’re people!” Phoebe helpfully insisted. 

“Not people. You’re family.” Harry grinned. 

The two-ton weight that had been sitting on his shoulders lifted and Harry felt like sitting a little taller in his seat, like he wanted to pin a rainbow-colored prize ribbon on his chest. He did it. They did it. First steps out of the closet, and so thankfully into welcoming arms. Harry thought about all the stress he could’ve saved himself over the past years, claiming they were worried about their relationship’s longevity, or coming up with other excuses, when Harry had just been terrified of rejection. Then scared. Then nervous. And now, jubilation. Harry always wanted to be this brave, he loved feeling powerful. He thought it could get addictive. 


	5. Chapter 5

The most awkward part of telling their parents came later, when their moms sat them down for an updated sex talk. Luckily, neither Jay nor Anne wanted specifics, and they said they didn’t want to monitor whatever was happening in their bedrooms. Since Harry and Louis were seniors, months away from living on their own at college, their parents trusted them to be, er, discreet around the girls. They coughed and sputtered around assuring their moms that they were being safe, then declined Jay’s offer to buy them condoms, but promised they’d ask if they were ever needed. The four of them all walked away red-cheeked and couldn’t look each other in the eye for a bit, but all in all, it was as painless as it could’ve been. 

Louis bopped Harry’s nose with his finger, then pulled him in for a quick kiss, surprising Harry. He wasn’t used to public displays of affection and Louis kept catching him off guard. 

“Gross,” Fizzy whined. “Can’t you do that somewhere else, like your room?” Apparently the rest of their families weren’t used to it either. 

Louis gave her the middle finger instead. “If you don’t like it, you can leave. We were here first.” 

Harry had wormed his way out of a night of horror movies and beer at Niall’s, claiming an obscene amount of homework. That was true, actually, and he had brought his overloaded backpack over to the Tomlinsons’ so he and Louis could study together. He had gotten through a good amount of work, until his brain gave up and he couldn’t concentrate. They decided on action flicks and lemonade on the couch instead. 

Fizzy scoffed. “Isn’t it almost like kissing your brother?” Their faces must’ve looked as horrified as they felt, as she burst into laughter and threw a pillow at them. 

“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone. Even though I still think the kissing… and other stuff should happen in your room and away from my innocent eyes.”

“Speaking of innocent eyes, you’re too young to know anything about ‘other stuff.’”

Her rolling eyes were her only response as she walked out of the room. 

Harry loved how much easier things were since they came out to their families. He could now lie on the couch, his head in Louis’ lap, while he gently combed Harry’s curls with his fingers, instead of sitting as far from him as possible, afraid to give away their secret. Blushing because of the occasional comment from one of Louis’ sisters was an easy trade off for the guilt he’d felt lying to everyone. 

“Hey.” Louis’ hand momentarily stilled, then instead of the repetitious pattern, he gently pulled on a curl. “Coming out to them wasn’t so hard.”

Harry wondered how long he had been thinking about that, since he was interrupting a thrilling car chase. “I suppose.”

“Whatdya mean?”

“Hm?” On the screen, Michelle Rodriguez was falling off the side of a tanker truck and Vin Diesel was spinning his car next to it so she could jump onto the hood. 

“Can’t tell if you’re engrossed in the movie or disagreeing with me.”

“A little of both, actually.”

Louis was quiet as they watched in slow motion as the flame-licked truck flew through the air and narrowly missed the car driving under it. 

“Yeah? You thought it was hard?”

“It turned out alright.” Harry reached out for the remote and muted the TV. 

“Of course it did.” Louis wound a curl around his finger, the hairs pulled at Harry’s scalp. 

Harry didn’t know what Louis was getting at. He did this sometimes, got lost in his own head then threw out an offhand comment, like Harry was inside his brain watching it work and reading his thoughts. Sometimes he felt like he was, but other times Harry felt like he was still putting on his pads and helmet, while Louis was running full speed toward the goal.

“It’s awesome that it did. And I wasn’t _too_ worried. But it was still like… what if it didn’t.”

Louis unraveled his finger from the curl. “You, were really worried about that?”

“Yeah.” Harry scrambled to sit up a bit. “You weren’t?”

Louis shook his head. “Always knew it’d be fine.”

“Oh.” Harry was confused. He thought they had been in the same boat, reading the same situation. He felt a bit like the rug was being pulled out from under him. “Why?”

Louis shrugged. “They all love Uncle Mikey and Brian. And Katie and Lauren at the bakery. Dunno, didn’t seem like they’d care.”

“No, I mean, why are you asking.”

Louis’ popped up from the couch. “Popcorn?”

“No. I mean. Yes. But not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Prom. Everyone’s—”

“No.” Harry leapt off the couch and took Louis’ hands in his. “I love you, baby. I really do. But no. That’s not—no.”

The nervous, pleading look morphed into something stonier. “Okay.” With a curt nod, Louis spun and headed to the kitchen. 

“You get it, right?” Harry took off after him. He grabbed Louis’ arm, but Louis jerked it from his grasp. 

“Completely.”

Harry didn’t know why he was mad. And this was Louis, mad. Closed off, stony face, jaw clenched, refusing to look at Harry. They had discussed this, multiple times, over and over and over again. And they’d agreed. They’d wait until they were in college. Hopefully they’d be at the same school, playing for the same team. They’d show up on day one and act like they had always been out. Not make a giant production of telling everyone, but not necessarily holding back either. Louis knew, _he knew_. He had witnessed it firsthand, and he’d heard Harry’s stories, about the blatant homophobia in his school. His teammates were some of the worst offenders. Just a few months more, and they could put all those assholes behind them. He knew, and he couldn’t believe Louis was choosing to forget all of that. For prom. It was just a lame school dance!

“Great.” Louis might be the prince of passive-aggressive avoidance, but Harry was the king. 

While Louis dug through the pantry for the popcorn, Harry idly shuffled some papers on the counter. The corner of one of the sheets near the bottom caught his eye. It had the state university logo. He tugged it a bit so he could sneak a peek. Harry hadn’t gotten his letter yet and Louis said he was still waiting to hear. Clearly he was lying, the word “congratulations” in the first sentence gave that away. 

Louis pushed the food around on the shelves, a cacophony of packages rustling and knocking against each other. His voice was muffled from inside the pantry. “I just think it’s funny how you act like you’re so proud and strong, yet you won’t stand up to those assholes. And you’re supposed to be their captain.”

Right. Well, he was glad to hear what Louis really thought of him. It was almost like Louis went to a super liberal private school where they taught things like sex ed, gender studies, and women’s history, where they had a diverse staff who upheld their zero tolerance bullying policy, and where there were already a few out kids. It was almost like he and Louis were living through completely different school experiences. It was almost like Louis hadn’t listened to a fucking word he had been saying for _years_ as he tried to navigate the minefield that was his own school. 

And now the person who’d been his rock, his source of comfort through it all, thought he was a coward. He’d been lying to Harry about the acceptance letter from State because he didn’t want to go to college with him or play on a team with such a chicken shit. Louis was probably trying to figure out how to break up with him right now. 

“Yeah, real fucking funny, Lou.” Harry turned and left the kitchen in silence. He was at the front door and shoving his feet into his shoes before Louis probably realized he was alone in the kitchen. He slammed the door and caught the tail end of Louis calling after him. 

It was a great time to remember that he didn’t have a car. His mom had dropped him off and wasn’t planning on having him back home until the next day. He marched down the driveway and turned right on a whim, not stopping, or looking back, until he had turned the corner and put a few blocks between them. He tried to catch his breath. His eyes burned as he fought back tears and tried to figure out what to do next. He really, _really_ didn’t want to call his mom and answer any questions. Louis didn’t follow him out. No surprise. Harry had just run away, proving that he was the coward Louis had accused him of being. 

He walked a few more streets, turning random corners, but always moving further away from Louis. Not that he could get lost in the neighborhood, he’d ridden his bike up and down every street more times than he could count, but when he was sure that Louis would have trouble finding him, if he even bothered to come looking, he pulled out his cell and opened his contacts.

Niall answered on the first ring. “Hey, Ni. Any chance you can come pick me up?” He relayed the cross streets so Niall’s GPS would get him there without fail, then he turned off his phone. 

***

“Styles! Get your head out of your ass!” Harry had just dropped his fourth pass in a row and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He couldn’t concentrate when his life was falling apart around him. Lacrosse had always been a reprieve from the outside world, but now it was just another thing on a long list of shit that had gone wrong. His boyfriend wasn’t speaking to him—he didn’t even know if they were still together—he had yet to hear from Syracuse, and he was angry at his team. They had always been able to put their differences aside on the field and play as one, but after seeing and hearing them at the game against Phillips, Harry couldn’t help but see the behavior everywhere he looked. And he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

Practice sucked balls. 

They hadn’t talked in three days, and yes, Harry had run off, but this wasn’t about being stubborn. Louis either needed to go ahead and end things between them or he needed to reach out and apologize for being a rude fucker. The thought of the first option was physically painful. His heart clenched and he was unable to eat from the unending nausea. 

Harry was doing his best to avoid all mentions of Louis, including not checking his social media, and avoiding his family, who were bound to ask him questions. It was weird knowing that Louis had played a game that Harry wouldn’t hear every detail about. That hadn’t happened in years. 

The whole not eating thing meant that he skipped lunch too, instead keeping his nose buried in his Physics book, switching over to _Of Human Bondage_ , after he finished the problem sets. 

It was the hottest day of the season so far, and practice was just as shitty as it had been the day before. Harry was trying to ignore the chatter around him, run his drills, and get the fuck out of there. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he zigzagged around the cones, and then he heard Eric talking to Niall. “Can’t believe Phillips lost last night. Should have been an easy win for them. Tommo was really off his game.” Harry was thrown for such a loop that he tripped over his own feet and landed sprawled on the ground. No one here was allowed to call him that. His heart lurched again at the thought of Louis nursing a loss without Harry to lean on. Even if he did bring it on himself.

Niall grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We’re not out of the hunt for State.”

The rest of the practice was a total shit show. Missed passes and picks, lackluster checks and dives, and terrible shots that completely missed the goal. They were all a mess. And Harry felt responsible. He wondered why Coach had made him captain in the first place.

Coach made them run triple suicides at the end of practice, for the first time ever. They’d had to do doubles twice before, after particularly abysmal practices, but triples were unheard of. 

As they finished running, one by one, they walked to the center of the field on wobbly legs. When they’d all gathered around him to stretch and catch their breath, Coach blew his whistle.

“You play like children, I’m going to treat you like children. Maybe I wore you out enough for a good night’s sleep so next time you can show up and play like you mean it.” Coach stood watching them while they all gingerly pushed themselves up from the grass and formed a semicircle in front of him. “I don’t think I need to go over all the ways you sucked today. But that was a disappointment. We have a real chance this season, but you _have_ to play as a team. I’m not sure what’s happening with everyone. But all of you,” he pointed a finger around at them all, “need to figure it out.” Everyone kept their mouths shut and nodded along. “Tomorrow’s practice is cancelled.” Judging by the raised eyebrows, Harry was just as surprised as everyone else. “Come back Thursday with better attitudes and ready to work. Get out of here.”

“Seriously, Harry. What was that?” Eric bumped his shoulder as he walked past. 

Harry bristled at the implication that the afternoon was his fault. “Why don’t you just go fuck yourself?” 

“This is serious though,” Xander joined in. “Did you check your netting for holes? Or just forget how to catch? There’s probably room on my brother’s Pee Wee team if you need to relearn anything.”

Harry balled up his fists at his sides and tried to take a deep breath. 

Someone else knocked into his arm and Harry snapped. “Just fuck off. We all had a bad day!”

“Dude.” Niall spoke softly, “You okay?”

“Fine.” Harry knew he shouldn’t take his anger out on Niall. Niall was never the problem. 

Harry moved at the pace of a ninety-year-old with a bad hip. Everyone else but Niall had left the field, but Harry sat down on the bench, and dropped his face into his hands. 

“Seriously, Styles, you okay?” Niall straddled the bench next to him. 

“Yeah, no, I am fine, I just… I couldn’t get out of my head today, you know?”

Niall shrugged. “You know I’m here if you ever need to, like, talk.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m fine. But thanks.”

Niall ruffled Harry’s sweaty curls. “Okay, then I’m out. Gotta start planning my free afternoon.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

***

Harry had another restless night’s sleep. It was embarrassing to admit, but he slept so much better when Louis told him all about his day and his voice was the last sound he heard before nodding off. Four nights in a row was a new record. Even when he went to Mexico for his family’s week-long vacation, he’d wandered off to get a phone card and snuck a late night call from one of the phones in the lobby of the hotel.

He wasn’t even sure if they were still together, which might have been the worst part. If they never spoke again surely they were broken up, Louis didn’t need to say the words to make it true. But the not knowing what Louis was thinking was killing him. He needed to know, but he also flinched anytime his phone dinged with a notification, not wanting his worst fear to come true. Schrodinger’s relationship was definitely better than a confirmed dead relationship. And if they were still together, one look at the stress acne that had popped up on his chin would have Louis running away. It was really frustrating that hiding under piles of blankets on his bed and staring blankly into the darkness while listening to Sigur Ros wasn’t an acceptable way for him to handle his mess of a life. 

Harry could barely keep his eyes open during his classes. His head dropped back and snapped forward a few times, and if he’d allowed himself to rest it on his desk, he probably would have slept through the entire lecture. There were some curious looks from his classmates, and his World History teacher pulled him aside after class to ask if everything was okay. 

Clearly it wasn’t. But he nodded and shuffled off to his next class. 

Leave it to Niall to be be his savior. Right before lunch, Niall stopped by his locker. “We’re not going to the cafeteria.”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “Library?”

“Nah. We’re leaving.” 

“Niall!” Harry hissed. “You can’t just… say that.”

“Of course I can,” Niall laughed. “Anyone can see that you should be anywhere but here today.”

Harry shoved his books onto the top shelf. “What were you thinking?”

“Al’s.” 

Harry squawked out a laugh. “How could I turn that down?”

They managed to sneak off campus without drawing the attention of the security guards, and within twenty minutes were sitting in a small booth inside the dim cafe. 

They placed their orders and after the waitress came back with their Cokes, Niall skipped the small talk and cut right to the chase. 

“What’s going on?”

Harry’s eye darted around the almost empty room. 

“You can’t avoid me forever. You’re not fine. You’re bottling whatever this is up and it’s freaking me out a bit.”

The words were on the tip of his tongue, playing on a loop inside his brain. He just had to spit them out. He swallowed thickly. Niall was looking at him with wide eyes and an expectant expression. 

“You can take your time. And I don’t need, like, details, or whatever, as much as you’re willing to say. But we’re not leaving until you tell me the gist of what’s bugging you.” 

“Okay.” His voice came out cracked and he cleared this throat. “Okay.” 

They still sat in near silence until the waitress brought their food and refilled their drinks. Once she was out earshot again, he knew he had to do it. He wasn’t going to be able to eat a bit of his burger with the way his stomach was churning. 

“I’m gay,” he blurted out. 

He wound the straw wrapper around his fingertip so tightly that it turned purple. He couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes from his plate and face Niall’s rejection. 

“Oh, shit.” The table shook as Niall jumped up and slid into Harry’s side of the booth, plastering himself to Harry’s side with a hug. “I wasn’t… Fuck, I didn’t, like, make you come out right? God, I’m such an asshole. I thought you were going to say you were flunking English or something. I was so worried.”

Harry laughed and tried to squeeze what he could of Niall in return. “I, um, wasn’t really planning on telling you today, but I’d thought about doing it, like, conceptually.”

Niall had a smug little smile on his face. “Thank you.” Harry was rocked back and forth a few times and finally Niall let go, sliding into his own seat. 

“I’m really proud of you, H. I mean I’m sorry ’cause I totally cornered you and you could’ve lied but… I’m glad you told me.” He shook the ketchup bottle and poured an excessive amount onto his burger patty. 

Harry shrugged and stared down at his burger. His stomach was still churning, because the problem wasn’t that he was gay, the problem was Louis. And he had no one to talk about it with. He wanted to tell Niall what the real issue was, but he needed to be vague.

Niall came up for air, already halfway through his burger. “Oh, shit. Xander and Eric and some of the guys. No wonder things have been heated. I’ll tell them to knock it off, okay?”

“No,” Harry gasped. “Seriously. You can’t tell them. It’s not… they’re not really the problem. Or, they are, but I don’t want it to get worse.”

Niall blanched. “I would never. You know that right, that I would never out you to them? I mean, to anyone, but like, especially them.”

“Yeah, I trust you.” Harry took his first bite. “It’s just…”

“Am I, like, am I the first person you told?”

Harry let out a little laugh despite everything else. The idea of Louis not being his first _everything_ —that he would’ve told anyone but Louis first—was still funny. “No. Um. My family? They know.” Harry’s deep voice kept getting lighter and and lighter as he continued. “And um, my, uh… my boyfriend and his family?” 

“Holy shit, you have a boyfriend?” Niall’s eyes were huge. “Of course you do, look at you, but okay, wow. When I can I meet him? Wait, do I know him?”

Harry laughed again. Leave it to Niall to be so nonchalant about it all. But, no, Niall could definitely not know his boyfriend was Louis. Harry didn’t want to think of the problems and questions that could bring up.

“At least I hope I still have a boyfriend? That’s sort of why I’m… we had this big fight.”

“Oh.” Niall wiped a smear of ketchup from the side of his face. “Do you want to make up with him? Or was it like, relationship ending and you haven’t made the final cut?” Niall, back at it with the direct questions. 

“I want to make up with him. I hope it’s not, like the end of it. But he’s pressuring me, and I don’t know if I can…”

“Harry.” Niall’s knife-sharp voice cut through his rambling. “If he wants you to do… things… you’re not comfortable with, I will cut off his balls.”

It took a moment for Harry to understand what Niall meant. “Oh my god,” Harry laughed. “No, that’s not… thanks, but that’s not… that’s definitely not a problem. We’ve been doing,” Harry cleared his throat, “that for like, a while. So that’s… yeah… that’s fine. Perfect, even. It’s just, he wants us to go to prom. Which, like, absolutely not. I know Louis’ school is more open-minded about stuff, but still, that’s, no. We definitely can’t.” He started tearing strips from his napkin. “We’ve talked almost every day for years, so like, the past few days have been… torture.” Maybe a tad dramatic, but not far off from the truth. 

Harry felt hot and sweaty. Honesty was exhausting, so he reached for his drink. Harry kept forgetting about the whole college thing too… he didn’t have a clue why Louis hadn’t told him about his acceptance letter.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t realize that Niall hadn’t spoken for a while. When he looked up, it was to Niall’s shrewd eyes staring at him. “Right. So, we can come back to the fact that you’ve had a boyfriend for a while and I’m just now hearing about it. Because, Jesus, Harry, are you living a secret double life? I know there’s no way you just said Louis.”

Harry gulped and racked his brain, desperate to remember the exact words he’d used. 

“It’s impossible that your boyfriend is Louis Tomlinson. Our arch enemy, captain of our school rival’s lacrosse team, Phillips Academy’s Louis Tomlinson. So this guy’s last name must be Smith or something.”

“Ummm…” Harry couldn’t think of a way around it.. It wasn’t _lying_ if he never brought Louis up, ever. But he couldn’t deny them, the thought made him sick. But confirming it, fuck, outing Louis, he couldn’t… wouldn’t. “Ummm.”

“Fuck! Harry. What the hell? Is that why you played like shit against Phillips?”

“What? I didn’t…”

“Harry, I swear to god, if we lose States this year, senior year, because you couldn’t keep it in your pants…”

Now was Harry’s time to get mad. “What the fuck, Niall. Seriously? It’s not… it’s not like that.”

Niall’s face was set in stone, mouth pursed and eyebrows furrowed. 

“Niall, you can’t,” Harry’s voice was barely a whisper. Because Niall might be furious at him right now, but, he had to fix this, had to make sure he hadn’t just literally ruined Louis’ career. “Please promise me, you can’t tell anyone. Fuck, you can’t…” Tears welled and he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, until colorful stars exploded in the dark. 

“I’m not going fucking out him.” Niall’s voice was rough. “But you better fix this mess. We’re not losing States because you’re too wrapped up in relationship drama, or because you’re not going to give it a hundred ten percent when we play Phillips again.” Niall stood up and without another word, stalked out of the restaurant. 

With his elbows on the table, Harry cradled his head in his hands. 

“Can I get you anything else?” The waitress tapped her pen on her notebook. 

“Just the check, thanks.” Harry dug in his pocket for his wallet. Of course, stuck with the bill and no way home. 

***

Harry needed to fix his life. 

He knew that he wasn’t completely to blame. Louis was being an ass that day, but it felt like they were trying to out-stubborn each other and he didn’t know what to do. He was still angry, but he was driving himself mad because he wanted to fix things, but more than that, he wanted Louis to take the first step. He needed Louis to make things better this time. 

He was hunched over his Calculus book, trying to focus on indefinite integrals, but unable to think about anything other than Louis. He dropped his pencil and sighed. It had been five days with no word from him, so maybe this was the end. He thought about sending a simple olive branch to let him know he was still here and ready when Louis was.

His phone dinged from across the room where it was plugged in. He still hadn’t heard from Niall either, but Harry had busted ass during practice and Niall had smiled and nodded at him across the parking lot afterward. He suspected it wouldn’t take much more until they were back to normal. 

Harry walked over and picked up his phone, then almost dropped it when he saw that the message was from Louis. It was just a simple “Hi” but it caused Harry’s heart to swell. The three dots appeared as he was staring at the phone, and then “I’m such a fuckup. Dont blame u if u never want to see me again. Want to apologize if u will let me.”

The idea of making Louis sweat a bit had its appeal, but Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out. It only took him a few seconds to respond. “Think we both fucked up. Can I call?”

His phone rang almost immediately. 

“Hey…” Harry answered. 

“I love you. I can’t believe I haven’t told you in a week. But I do, I love you.”

Harry laughed. “I love you too.”

They went through their apologies, and Louis admitted it was unfair to ask more of Harry. Prom didn’t matter, really, it was the idea of prom. Going out, in public, with Harry. Screaming from the mountaintops how much he loved Harry. Louis was frustrated that he couldn’t make grand romantic gestures. Prom, a whole night dedicated to romance and public displays of affection and slow dancing, was off the table for them for such stupid reasons. Because they were boys. Because they played on rival teams. 

Louis had to sort through accepting that he’d probably go with a girl friend who offered a night of platonic, faked, over the top mocking romance, instead of the real thing. 

He did know their situations were wildly different, and even if they weren’t, he’d wait for as long as Harry was ready.

Harry apologized for walking out. He knew it was better, even if it evolved into a fight, to talk it out instead of burying his feelings and running. He knew that and was going to work on it. 

A bump in the road; things were maybe not quite all forgiven, but they’d survive. 

“I miss your face,” Harry finally confessed. 

“God, you have no idea,” Louis commiserated. 

“You have plans for tonight?”

“No, was going to spend the night watching sad movies with Lottie on the couch if you didn’t respond. It’s all I’ve really been doing this week.”

“Okay. Good. Shower and get dressed. I’ll pick you up at…” Harry glanced at the clock and did a few mental calculations, “seven?”

“Sure, yeah. Where are we going?”

“I thought I’d take you on an official, grown-up, date.”

“A date?” Harry knew exactly the face Louis was making, forehead lined with confusion, top teeth pulling in his lower lip.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, when two people like each other…”

“But we’ve never—”

“I know. I want to take you out.” Harry took a deep breath to slow his racing heart. “In public.”

Louis sucked in quick breath. There was a short pause after the gasp and Harry’s hand trembled. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

They both laughed as they said goodbye, and as soon as Harry hung up, he started to get ready. 

Which is how he found himself at five minutes to seven, standing under the front porch light, smoothing the front his white, tucked-in, button down shirt and yanking at the hem of his grey blazer to make sure it was falling correctly. He knew Louis loved him in the black skinnies he was wearing, though he hardly ever wore them, and the boots were a new addition. He rang the doorbell, which was weird since he always just walked in, but he was dressed up and beset by nerves and the idea of walking in to pick Louis up for their first official date felt wrong. 

Jay opened the door, and her expression changed from her usual bright and welcoming smile to something much softer when she glanced at his sartorial choice. “You look very handsome, Harry.” Harry felt his cheeks blush. 

“Thanks, Jay.”

“Feels like I should be giving you the third degree, asking what your intentions are with my son—”

Harry choked on his spit and knew his face was aflame at her implication. 

“And when you’ll have him home tonight. All that’s missing is the flowers.”

Harry’s heart stopped. “Oh. I didn’t even think. Should I go—”

“No,” Jay laughed. “I can’t believe my babies are growing up. Louis said it was your first real date?”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, always been a little more, low-key, with us.”

Louis appeared behind his mom. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek as he passed. “Bye Mom, stop interrogating Harry.”

Jay rolled her eyes. “You boys have fun tonight. Be safe.”

Louis looked gorgeous. Not that Harry was surprised, he could carry off any look, but in his light blue chinos and sweater he looked, softer, than he normally did. Even though the sweater was mainly pink, there was enough blue and green woven through to make his eyes pop. It took everything Harry had to open the car door for him and then walk away instead of pressing him against the car and kissing him senseless. 

Harry took another deep breath. He thought he might need to take a few more before the night was through. No wonder they had never done this before. It was Louis. His best friend Louis. Louis, who he’s seen naked on a regular basis for a year now. Louis, who for some crazy reason seemed to love Harry as much as Harry loved him. But he was nervous, because this was an honest to goodness date, and he felt like it could all go terribly wrong at any point. 

He wiped his hands down this thighs then got in the car. 

“So, I’m really, really pissed off right now?”

Harry gulped. That was not how the thought the date would start. “Okay?”

“You told me to get dressed. Not that you were going to show up at my door in a fucking blazer. Looking like a goddamn prince. Jesus, Harry, how am I supposed to compete with you when you look like…” Louis raked his eyes down Harry’s body. “That.”

Harry exhaled into a laugh. “You look, um, really good too, Lou. Should’ve been taking you out this whole time.”

“What, track pants and hoodies don’t do it for you?” Louis teased. 

Harry pulled onto the road and turned to give Louis a pointed look. “I’m pretty sure you know _exactly_ what you in athletic wear does to me.”

Louis snorted and then started punching buttons on the radio, listening to all of a second of each song before moving to the next station in search of something he wanted to listen to. 

“So, I thought we’d go to Wild Rosemary over in Parker. I know it’s a little far—”

“It’s perfect.” Louis gave him one of his blinding smiles and Harry had to pull his eyes back to the road. Those smiles should come with a warning label: may impair your ability to drive or operate heavy machinery. 

“Right. Um, the restaurant is supposed to be really good, but also I don’t… there shouldn’t be any…” 

“Harry, really, I’m so, so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it and you have to know that I don’t think you’re a coward… it makes me sick thinking about you having to deal with that shit all the time at school. I know how brave you are and it’s not your job to stand up to those assholes.”

Harry laced his fingers through Louis’ and put their hands on the gear shift. “Um, so I have to tell you something.”

“Okaaaaay?”

“I told Niall about us, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say your name, it just slipped out, and I feel so awful. He won’t say anything, I know he won’t, he promised, but I’m just… I know how shitty that was of me, and if you want me to take you back home, I wouldn’t blame you.” It was easy to keep his eyes on the road after that. 

“First of all, if you think I’m missing out on the scallops from Wild Rosemary you’re sorely mistaken. But also, baby, I’m so fucking proud of you. I can’t believe you told Niall.”

“But I—”

“Harry, it’s not like he could really even out me. I’m like, positive, that no one would be surprised. Like, I might not have really told anyone besides Liam, but it’s not like I’ve tried to hide the whole ‘no interest in girls, giant crush on Robbie Rogers' thing I have going on.”

Harry gasped in faux-concern. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, you're way hotter.”

“Still, I’m—”

“Harry. You told someone, about us. We’re going to have dinner, in public. Maybe I’ll get to hold your hand somewhere outside of either of our houses. This is… I didn’t even really know I wanted this, until today, and I don’t really know what to say, but this might be the best day of my life so far.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand tighter. “And you haven’t even had the scallops from Wild Rosemary yet.”

Louis smiled. “Guess the best is still to come.”

***

Harry arrived home with a bounce in his step. His team won their most recent game, so they still only had one loss for the season so far, practices were going really well, and things with Louis were going even better. It was a thousand times more awkward sometimes, now that their whole families knew they were dating, especially when they wanted to hang out in either of their bedrooms. But that was really all that Harry could complain about. Except college. He was still waiting to hear back from his schools and Louis still hadn’t confessed that he could play for State. Harry wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but it seemed like neither of them were going to mention their future. 

Except, when Harry got home one day from practice, there was an oversized, heavy envelope from State, and the first and only person he wanted to call was Louis. His hands were shaking as he brought in the mail and he debated opening it himself. If it was a rejection, he’d almost rather deal with it on his own before telling anyone. But he was pretty sure, like almost positive, that it was an acceptance letter. Rejections would just come in a regular envelope, no need to splurge on the extra postage for a no, he reasoned. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, snapped a picture and sent it to Louis. 

Then he ran upstairs, envelope in hand. 

He sat on the edge of his bed and called Louis. There was background noise for a moment, then it all sounded muted, except the, “H, hi. Did you…” that slightly echoed as a greeting. 

“Where are you?”

“A few of us went to McDonalds after practice. I’m in the bathroom now, didn’t want to hear this news with everyone around.”

Harry laughed. The bathroom of a Mickey D’s was as good as place as any other to find out if they maybe, possibly, likely, would get to go to school together. “I kinda wanted you to be here when I opened it. But now, I can’t wait. I need to tear into it.”

“Harry! Do it! The anticipation is killing me.”

“Okay, hold on.” Harry set his phone on the mattress and ripped the packet open, tearing across the top until he could pull the papers out. All he could see was ‘Dear Mr. Styles,’ and ‘Congratulations!’ and it was like all the rest of the letters fell off the page. His brain started shooting of rapid fire thoughts of ‘I did it’ and ‘holy shit’ and ‘congratulations congratulations congratulations’ and there was no way he could be expected to make heads or tails of the rest of the letter. 

Distantly, he heard Louis’ voice and remembered that he’d put his phone down. He pushed aside the enclosed folder, full of information and a booklet full of shiny smiling co-eds and a few other slips of paper that he still couldn’t get his eyes to focus on. His hand trembled as he raised the phone to his ear. 

“Lou. Louis. I did it. I got in. A full athletic scholarship. Fuck, I can’t believe it!” 

There was a screeching noise from the other end of the phone and then Louis’ started chanting, “I knew it. I knew it. Congrats.” 

“Lou, we’re, we’re doing this right? Going to school together?”

“What? Um, yeah. Yes. How’d you—”

Harry cut him off with an excited squeal. sighed and fell back, splayed across his bed. He didn’t think the smile could be wiped from his face, even if he tried. 

“H, you still here?”

Harry made a noise of assent. 

“Okay, be there in like, twenty? Fuck, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

After Louis hung up, Harry kicked his legs in the air and screeched like Julia Roberts in the bathtub in _Pretty Woman_. Then he started flipping through the school catalog, trying to picture himself, and Louis—fuck, they’ll get to go to the same school, for once in their life—walking around. No school uniforms. No Xander. No houses full of nosy family. 

The front door slammed and he heard Louis running up the stairs. He stood, and when Louis flung open his door, Louis jumped into Harry’s arms, propelling them both onto the bed in a mess of limbs. Louis gave him a deep, lingering kiss while gently gluing him to the mattress with his hips. 

Louis pulled away with a quiet moan. “How’d you know I got in?”

“Oh. Um. On that day we got into that fight. When you were in the pantry I saw it.”

“Shit.” Louis tucked a piece of hair behind Harry’s ear. Or attempted to anyway. The curl bounced right back to where it was. “I was so nervous it was a rejection that I had to open it alone. I just… I wanted it so bad, you know. And I called you, and you clearly hadn’t gotten it, and it freaked me out a bit. Like, almost the worst thing ever would be me getting in and not you. You deserve the world. And then another day went by, and then another. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t think about it, like without you, so I just tried not to. Out of sight, out of mind. That morning, actually, Mom found it and brought it downstairs. She actually put it on the fridge, and I took it down and put it with the rest of the papers.” He exhaled loudly. “Fuck, I was so stressed.”

“I can’t believe we finally, _finally_ , get to play on the same team. We’re going to kick so much ass.” Harry’s cheeks hurt from his non-stop smile. 

“Um, right, so, actually…” Louis rolled off of him and once he was sitting, pulled his legs up to his chest in a self-hug. 

Harry’s smile dropped away. That was not the excitement he was looking for. 

“No.” Louis sighed. “I got into the school, but didn’t make the team.”

“Oh.” Harry chewed on his lip. “What?”

“Yeah, I, that was part of why I didn’t say anything.” Louis shrugged. “Like, it’s totally great, but it’s also a little…”

“Fuck.” Harry could feel the sting of tears. “No, there’s got to be some mistake.”

Louis laughed bitterly. “Nah, but that’s okay. It is what it is. At least we’ll still be at the same school.”

The conflicting energy running through him was making his chest hurt. 

“I can play intramural. Will still need to practice.”

“Yeah?” Louis was taking this all remarkably well, though, Harry supposed, he did have more time to get used to the idea of not playing for State. 

“And I still have to go hard now. Syracuse might have room for me on the team.”

“Yeah, fuck State.” Harry was moving into anger on Louis’ behalf. 

“Nah, I might end up their biggest cheerleader.”

“Would suck, playing without you,” Harry pouted. He pulled Louis into a languid kiss. 

Louis pulled away after a few minutes. “It’s going to suck when you lose to us, again.” 

“Ha!” There was no way. “I mean, clearly one of us was good enough to make the team…” Harry teased. He hoped Louis would see it as the harmless banter he meant it as. 

“Just another reason why I plan on kicking your ass. Revenge!”

Harry shot Louis a cheeky grin. “Best of five?”

Louis shook his head, but was already up and heading for the door. He turned and winked. “You’re going down, Styles.”

Their routine was well practiced. “Only if I lose.”

They ambled out of the house, bumping into each other rounding corners and practically walking in the same space. There was something to knowing that no matter who won on the field, afterward they’d both be getting off. 

***

The week leading up to their game against Phillips Academy was rough on Harry. He and Louis had agreed it would probably be best if they took a tiny step back from each other. They were both worried that they might not play as hard as they needed to if the lead-up to the game was filled with late night calls. Far more often than not, their conversations took a sexual turn, but they always _always_ included lacrosse talk about how their practices went and when Harry confessed he felt a bit like a traitor, Louis agreed, and that was the end of the calls until after the game. 

Harry’s relationship with Niall had pretty much gone back to normal. As Harry suspected, he just needed a bit of time to get over the feeling of betrayal. But when Wednesday rolled around and Harry was bouncing out of his skin, Niall pulled him aside to see what was wrong. Harry gave him the low down, that he and Louis weren’t currently talking because he didn’t want to betray the team, and Niall just shook his head. “That’s some dedication. No wonder you’re captain.”

Harry laughed and for the first time wondered if maybe everyone else didn’t feel the same way about the game that he did. 

When Niall volunteered for the nightly call, sans the sex talk, Harry thought he might cry with relief. 

Until that night, when he nearly bored Niall to tears. His exact words were “Fuck, if you and Tomlinson get off talking about all this boring shit, then you’re probably a match made in heaven.”

When Friday morning rolled around, Harry was up before the sun, his head whirling with plays and visualizations and bogged down with stress about his future. After a few minutes deliberation, he got up, got dressed, packed his bag, and drove to the school. For once, he could shower in the locker room. He ran around the dark track, thinking that he should invest in one of those running headlamps. He pushed himself, trying to quiet his mind by exhausting his body. 

“Styles!” 

Harry would’ve known that voice anywhere. He saw the dark figure at the other end of the track and started to sprint towards it. 

“Coach, you’re here early,” he panted once he pulled up short in front of his coach. 

“And yet, you’re here even earlier. Running yourself ragged from the looks of it. You forget we have a game tonight?”

Harry had to laugh at the mere idea of him forgetting a game, let alone a game against Louis. 

“Nah, just trying to run off some nervous energy. Got a lot on my mind.”

Coach grunted out something that sounded like a hum. “Not going to let you run that hard, but maybe you want to talk about it while we take a jog.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry told his coach about the plays running through his head, about how they should adjust their coverage for Liam who tore up the field last time, how they could back off Louis’ non-dominant side since his backhands were generally shit, and that their own goalie needed some work on guarding his left side. 

“None of that is what has you here before sunrise. You know I’m here, right? If there’s other stuff going on.”

“Yeah, I… I know.” Harry didn’t think it was possible, asking the question he really wanted to ask without giving himself away. 

“That Calculus situation get itself figure out?” 

Harry thought back to their first practice of the season and how he’d been late. “Yeah, just have to, you know, pay attention in class.”

Coach chuckled. “Yeah, that was always the struggle for me too.”

They ran the next lap in silence, the only sounds their heavy breaths and the twittering of waking birds. 

“Hey, Coach?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you have any advice, for, um, a friend of mine,” Harry tried to contain his wince, “who, um, let’s say, was in the closet, while they, um, were in high school, but they, uh, wanted to be out, like, at college?” Harry cringed. 

They ran another half lap and Harry was about to double down on the ‘friend’ thing, when Coach finally spoke up. “I think, that it sounds like your friend knows what they want. And I’m sorry that they didn’t feel like they could be out in high school, and I can’t promise anything, not, uh, knowing this particular friend of yours, but I suspect they’ll do just fine in college, in or out of the closet, whichever they prefer.”

Harry kept his eyes on the track, afraid he'd give himself away. The fortress he'd constructed around himself, built of fear and self-doubt, had been slowly eroded by the outpouring of love from his and Louis' family and from Niall. And now the minuscule cracks in the walls were filling with a sense of acceptance he hadn't realized he needed. He felt he might burst from the unexpected relief. He focused on the painted white lines of the track until he could speak again. 

“So let’s say this, uh, friend, he also plays lacrosse, and maybe he’ll get a shot at playing for a D1 school—”

“Must be a great player.” 

Harry bit down on the smile the unexpected compliment almost caused. “He loves the game, for sure.” Harry wasn’t sure how to phrase his exact question. “Uh, so, yeah, should my friend,” giving up on the pretense still felt like a step too far, “like, tell, anyone? The recruiter or the coach, or like, someone? Um, if this is something that he, like, needs to do, like, an non-negotiable part of playing, like, maybe someone needs to know?”

They ran some more, a few cars pulled up to the parking lot, teachers and staff ready for the day started going into the building. 

“My advice for your friend, is to not say anything up front. It’s… legally, they can’t let it be a part of their decision, but that doesn’t mean they can’t work around the law. College sports, the NCAA, well, they’re not known for their above board behavior. If this kid loves playing as much as I think he does, then it’d be a real shame to give up that chance by adding an extra detail to the recruiting process. But, I’d tell this kid that if he works hard, and earns his place, he should show up for practice proud of who he is, and prove on the field that it’s a non-issue. Hell, I’m pretty sure they make rainbow stick tape and practice balls. Think I’ve even seen rainbow mesh a time or two.”

Harry swallowed thickly. 

“Right. Okay… I’ll be sure to, uh, pass along your advice.” As they neared the end of the track that was adjacent to the school, Harry slowed to a walk and his coach followed. “I need to uh,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the locker room, “first bell is going ring soon.”

Harry was drenched in sweat and felt like he had been put through the emotional wringer. He gathered his things and they walked into the school together. Just outside the locker room, Coach spoke to him again. “And, Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“I bet your friend’s coach would say it’s been a great honor getting to know him, and that no coach worth his salt would give up a chance to work with a player who cared so much, on and off the field.” Coach gave a little nod and then turned away, which was just fine with Harry; there was no need for Coach to see him choked up. 


	6. Chapter 6

The game was going really well… for Harry. He had been in The Zone since the first face-off; his passes were on fire, lightening quick and landing right in the pocket of the attackman he fed it to. Harry’s focus was sharp. Instead of overthinking everything—like he did during their last game against Phillips—he played instinctively and his passion for the game shone through. Somehow, he was managing to almost forget that Louis was on the field. They had been one-on-one a few times, and each time it surprised Harry to see Louis’ face behind his mask. Until Louis would smirk around his mouthguard, and for a second he’d feel like it was just the two of them playing in the backyard, instead of two rivals playing for the division championship title and the chance to move on to States. But a split second later, the focus would return, and Harry would go hard, playing to win. The stakes slightly higher than who’d get to come first. 

Harry was pulled out of the game for a quick substitution; a chance for him to tighten his strings and swallow some water to soothe his rasping voice from shouting down field all game. Coach was at his side immediately. 

“First row of bleachers, on the aisle, orange jacket.” Harry looked up at the stands and sought out who he was supposed to be looking for. “Run, Jason, run! Pick it up!” 

While Coach was busy doing his job, Harry watched the man as he leaned his forearms against the railings. His bright orange jacket definitely stuck out in a sea of the navy and red.

“The Syracuse scout said he’s looking to finalize his last two spots, but he only mentioned you. Maybe he’s looking at one of the Phillips kids too.”

The recruiter had to be checking out Louis. He was the best on his team by far. It had to be him. 

“Got it, Coach.”

“You’re doing great out there. Keep it up and it’s as good as yours.” The whistle blew. “Now get back in there.” 

The rest of the game flew by, until the final thirty seconds which seemed to stretch into infinity. It was the last regular game of his senior year, and, yes, they still had playoffs, but Harry tried to freeze a series of images like snapshots in his mind. Niall cackling in his ear as he ran past. The bright red numbers of their winning score on the scoreboard. Jay and his mom in their clashing colors, sitting next to each other with their homemade signs. 

The final whistle blew, and then it was a new set of snapshots: a sea of red jerseys as his team surrounded him, the proud look on Coach’s face, his mom crying, the teams lining up for their final handshakes, Louis and Harry last in their lines and after slapping palms, pulling each other into a hug, and pounding each other’s backs in front of everyone. Louis’ eyes were red, as though in the short time of Harry’s team’s celebration, he’d already cried and pulled himself together. He hid his disappointment behind a blinding smile. “So proud of you, H. Played a hell of a game.”

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur: the over-the-top celebration in the visitor’s locker room that included Niall head butting everyone who still had their helmet on, hoots and hollers and laughs bouncing off the tile of the showers while they relived all the key moments in breathless excitement, Coach looking like his first born just hit a homerun, and figuring out who was riding with who to get to the after party once the bus dropped them off at their school. 

Despite Harry’s numerous reasons for driving himself, Niall insisted that Harry ride with him. 

“You’re the man of the hour; you’ve got to have a few.” Niall’s statement was met with unanimous agreement from the rest of the team. 

As Harry rolled down his window in Niall’s car, Niall admitted, “I saw that ‘I’d rather be anywhere else’ look on your face. Now that I know that your other option is getting off, can’t say I blame you, but this one’s important. You have to show up tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, Niall. Wouldn’t have missed this party for anything.” 

Harry was pretty sure that Niall knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he let it slide. “Anyway, I gotta see my orthodontist in the morning. Mom made the appointment ridiculously early, so I’ll head out early tonight.” He turned the radio up, then shouted over the music, “Whenever you’re ready to go, I’ll drop you wherever.”

Harry offered his knuckles for a fist bump. Everyone needed a friend like Niall. 

The party was the same as all the others: red Solo cups filled with almost warm, cheap beer from a keg, furniture pushed against the walls to allow space for a makeshift dance floor, and people overflowing into the backyard. In the hour it took them to make the rounds, with Harry sipping from the same single cup of shitty beer, they managed to speak to everyone at least twice. Then they headed out once it seemed like no one would notice their absence. 

It was a quick drive to Louis’ house, and even with the late hour, it seemed like every light was on. Another fist bump to say thanks to Niall, and he was letting himself in through the front door. 

He should’ve guessed that his parents would be there, the whole crew minus the youngest girls were watching _Mary Poppins_. They greeted him with a chorus of ‘congratulations’ and ‘great game’, except for his mom who leapt up from her seat and wrapped him up in a tight hug, and Louis, who didn’t acknowledge his arrival. Harry couldn’t blame him, he’d be pouting too, if he’d lost. Harry squeezed in next to him on the couch though, displacing Lottie who would normally never let him get away with that kind of behavior.

He sat and watched the rest of the movie with them, finally getting a chance to decompress after the adrenaline high from the game. He ran his hand gently up and down Louis’ arm, concentrating on his soft skin, and the tiny white lines that appeared and faded when he used his nails instead of the pads of his fingers. He was so focused on Louis that he didn’t notice the movie was over until everyone else in the room stood up to stretch. 

“Harry, are you coming home with us or…”

He looked over at Louis, wanting him to the make the decision. If he wanted to be alone, Harry could give him that. Louis didn’t say anything, but gave Harry’s hand a squeeze and didn’t make a move to get up. 

Harry cleared his throat and looked to Jay, “Um, if it’s alright—”

“Of course, dear.” Her eyes flicked to Louis and she gave him a tight smile. 

“See you tomorrow,” Robin said with a quick wave, and a chorus of ‘bye’s followed them out of the room. 

Louis and Harry still didn’t move from their spot on the couch as the rest of the Tomlinsons made their way upstairs. Harry didn’t want to upset the delicate balance they seemed to have going on, so he stayed where he was, continuing to rub Louis’ arm. Harry knew what it was like to be ornery after a loss; consolations and platitudes only annoyed him. 

After the house had been quiet for a few long minutes, Louis finally spoke. “Hey, H?”

“Yeah?”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and laced their fingers together. “If Syracuse wants you, do you think we’ll stay together?”

Harry’s stomach lodged in his throat. “Lou, no matter what we’re going to school together. I mean, I guess unless Syracuse wants you and not me.” He couldn’t bear to think of the possibility. That was not the plan. “But there’s no sense in worrying about it until—”

“I saw the scout, okay.” Louis turned to look at Harry for the first time that night. “You were incredible tonight.” He ran a hand through Harry’s curls and brought him in a for a gentle kiss. “You were amazing. They’d be… I’d be utterly shocked if you didn’t get a spot. It was like watching… I don’t know, one of the greats in their prime—”

“You saying this my prime? It all goes downhill from here?”

“I was off my game tonight.” Harry opened his mouth to protest but Louis shook his head. “I was. It’s fine. It sucks, but it’s true.”

Harry wanted to wrap him up in blanket and protect him from the world. So that’s exactly what he did. “C’mon, Lou. We’re going to bed. It’s too late to be so pessimistic.” 

Louis snorted and gave a small shake of his head. He extended his arms in front of him, and Harry helped him up, and arms wrapped around each other they made their way upstairs together. 

***

A few days later they were sitting at Harry’s kitchen table doing their homework. Harry had gotten dinner in the oven, with minimal help from Louis. They’d taken advantage of the empty house while they could, so they were going to eat a bit later than Harry had planned. Harry loved their rare domestic afternoons. Just for a few hours, it was as if they were older, living together in their own house, with high school far behind them.

“Smells good in here.” Robin walked in and tossed the mail on the counter so he could pull off his suit jacket. 

“Hey, Robin. Golfer’s chicken. Your favorite,” Harry said. 

“Welcome home.” Louis greeted him with a grin. 

Harry closed his History book and leaned back in his chair, adjusting his backwards cap. He could study more later, and was happy to take a break. 

Robin flipped through the mail and plucked an envelope out, a thick heavy one, and dropped it in front of Harry, who just stared at it. Louis picked it up and took in a deep breath before handing it over to Harry. Harry held it, tracing his finger over the embossed S of the Syracuse Athletics logo. This was it. He was going to find out if he had a spot on the team or not. 

He realized his hands were shaking, so he ripped into the envelope, knowing that Louis and Robin were right there, waiting to celebrate or commiserate with him. 

_Dear Mr. Styles,_

_We would like to offer you …_

He blinked a few times, trying to make sure he was reading it correctly. The room was so quiet that when Robin not-so-subtly cleared his throat, Harry dropped the letter in surprise. 

Louis watched him, his eyes roaming over Harry’s face, as if he could read what the letter said there. 

“I got it.” Harry couldn’t believe it. “They want me on the team.” He picked the letter up to read it again. “Full athletic scholarship.”

“Congrats!” Robin came over to pull Harry into a sweeping hug. “I knew it. I’m so proud of you.”

Louis was next, he yanked at Harry’s shirt and fell into his arms, nuzzling his neck. “I’m so happy for you, H.” Harry held tight to Louis’ back, his fingers twisted in his shirt. He did it. He actually did it. 

He was still shaking, but from excitement, not nervousness. He had to call his mom. And Coach. And Niall. 

But first, he needed to know if that last spot on the team belonged to Louis. 

“Lou.” Harry kissed his cheek and took a step back. “Lou, you gotta call your mom. I bet you got yours too.”

“Yeah,” Louis gave his hand a squeeze. “You know what, I’m just gonna go home. Um, rather find out in person, you know.” He started gathering his books and sliding them into his backpack. 

“Oh. Okay.” Harry hated the uncertainty in his voice. “Sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?”

“Nah, I’m not actually all that hungry. Thanks for a fun afternoon though.” Louis gave him a wink that Harry was almost positive was not sly enough to go unnoticed by Robin. 

“Fine. Okay. But call me tonight, okay. I want to know as soon as you do.” 

Louis gave him a quick goodbye kiss, the slip of tongue was not nearly enough, but also too much. The slightest touch and Harry was thickening up, so the quick, persistent kiss—in front of Robin!—had him half hard in a moment. 

“Bye Robin!” And then he was gone. 

Harry slid back into his chair quickly and picked up the letter to read it a third time. 

His mom arrived home not long after Louis left and the celebration began anew. She was a little miffed that Harry hadn’t called her as soon as he found out so she could stop and get some celebration cupcakes on her way home. But Harry shrugged it off, he didn’t need cake. He was so close to getting everything he had ever wanted. All of his hard work was finally paying off. 

When he and his mom had finished the dishes, and he had yet to hear from Louis, his happiness and excitement started to wane. Somehow, Harry had never imagined a scenario in which they didn't both get onto the team at Syracuse, State, or both. The idea of one of them being offered a spot while the other was left out to dry had never so much as crossed his mind. He knew now that he'd been naïve, but there was no use berating himself about it. He was so nervous for Louis to finally call, because at this point, he was worried that it was bad news, and that he'd be faced with an impossible decision. More than anything, he wanted Louis' dreams to come true too. It was always supposed to be the two of them, playing together on the same team. His two favorite things together. Staying positive got harder and harder as the minutes ticked by. 

Anne was sitting on the couch watching television and Harry curled up on the opposite end, phone still clenched in his hand. 

“Mom?”

“Yeah, bug?”

“What if Louis doesn’t make it?”

Anne reached over for the remote and turned off the television. 

“If that happens, then you two will have to find a way to work it out.” 

Harry pouted. He didn’t want practical, adult advice, he wanted to whine. “But that’s not… it’s supposed to work out. We’ve been talking about this since we were like, twelve. I never imagined it any other way.”

Harry hunched over and rested his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back

“I think it’ll be hard, and frustrating, if it doesn’t work out like you two wanted. Hard for us, too. I hate seeing you going through a rough time. I want to swoop in and fix it.”

“Yeah, I just feel helpless right now.”

“And worrying won’t help.” Anne kissed the top of his head. “Once you find out, we’ll all start to adjust.”

“It sucked going through high school without him by my side. I don’t want to do that again.”

“Sounds like he has been by your side.”

“Yeah, but not like, physically. I just…” Harry felt so hopeless. “I really want this.”

Anne tucked him into a hug. He was glad she wasn’t trying to make it sound like everything was going to be okay, because he was starting to think that it wasn’t going to work out. 

When he crawled into bed and Louis still hadn’t called, his worry morphed into dread. Harry didn’t want to push it, since Louis clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever was going on. He promised himself that he was going to stop jumping to the worst conclusions immediately. He knew Louis retreated sometimes, when he needed time to process things, but that certainly didn’t help keep his mind from wandering to the worst case scenario. He had trouble falling asleep, his brain was spiraling out of control. Louis didn’t get it. They’d go to different schools. They were going to break up. He’d be stuck in the closet the rest of his life. After a fitful night sleep, he finally crawled out of bed in the morning, not wanting to share his news with anyone. It didn’t seem like great news any more if Louis wasn’t going to be with him every step of the way. 

***

The text from Louis finally arrived the next evening when Harry checked his phone after practice. “Can I come over?” Nothing to indicate whether or not it was good news. Harry let him know that he’d be home soon and to come over whenever he wanted. 

Harry dragged his feet on the way home. He was pretty sure Louis was going to dash his dreams and, though he’d spent the last twenty-four hours thinking he’d give anything to know what was going on, now that he was about to find out, all he wanted to do was put it off or avoid it altogether. 

When he pulled into the driveway, Louis’ car was already there. Harry stepped out of the car, and opened up the back. He checked his backpack to make sure he had what he needed for his homework, or at least that’s what he told himself, then he sighed before zipping it back up and throwing it over his shoulder. He couldn’t put this off any longer. 

And he did want to be there for Louis. He knew in that moment he was being a crap boyfriend. 

He gave himself a scolding and made his way to the front door. After dropping his bag in the foyer and taking a few deep breaths, he walked into the living room to find Louis sitting on the couch, flipping through one of the many photo albums his mom kept piled up on the side table. 

“We’ve had a lot of good times, huh?” Louis gave him a small smile as Harry sat down next to him. He showed Harry the page he was on. Their first soccer team, they were probably four-years-old, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, grinning into the sun and the camera. 

“And more to come, right?” Harry’s laugh was reed thin. “You’re not like… this isn’t a stroll down memory lane before you break up with me, right?”

“Nah.” Louis closed the book with a dull thud. He put his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Kinda afraid you’re going to break up with me, if we’re being honest.”

“No, Lou, if you didn’t—”

“I did. They offered me a place on the team.”

Harry whipped his head around so fast that his chin bashed against Louis’ forehead. “Wha-wh… Louis. What the fuck, that’s amazing.” Harry didn’t understand why Louis still looked so unsure and so… sad. 

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” 

“Okay…” Harry drew the word out. 

“I’m not sure I’m going to accept.”

“What?” Harry shook his head in confusion. 

“I love lacrosse. Obviously. But like, I really want to be out. And I know you’re nervous about that. I get it. I really, really do. And I would never like, make you come out. This isn’t an ultimatum. But even now it’s hard, and like, in college? I don’t want to have to hide.” Louis ran his knuckles over Harry’s thigh; his head still pressed against Harry’s neck. “I might be overthinking it, but like, it seems like it be hard enough to be out as a college athlete, but like, to show up day one dating your teammate? I’m not sure they’re going to like, accept us. And I know how much this means to you, and I don’t want you to have to go through the same shit the next four years. And yeah, so like, maybe I should not accept.”

Harry wasn’t following. “This feels… an awful lot like you’re breaking up with me.”

“No,” Louis wailed. “That’s not… No. I want us to be together. I’m not breaking up with you But maybe it’d be easier for you without me there.”

“Why…? What? That doesn’t… You know I was planning to be out too.”

“I don’t want you to do that on my account. You deserve…”

“I won’t let you be a fucking martyr.”

Louis let out a sigh. “H… that’s not.”

“I told my fucking coach, okay. I’m planning on it… okay?”

“You… what?”

“He said… He said he didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal. So I was thinking… like… I mean, I don’t know…”

“Oh.”

“How’d you think that was going to work? You being out and me not? Like, we still wouldn’t be able to hold hands around campus if that was the case.” Harry took Louis’ hand in his. “I wouldn’t be able to kiss you whenever I wanted…” He moved closer to give Louis a deep and thorough kiss, running his tongue along Louis’, pulling lightly on the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Wouldn’t be able to show you off to all my friends. That’s an awfully big sacrifice that I don’t want to make.”

“Huh?” Louis looked dazed. “Since when…”

Harry let out a quiet laugh. “I mean… the dudes at my school are dicks, but I don’t think everyone in the world is. And even if they are… I hate not, like, shouting from the rooftops how much I love you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“What’s that?” Harry pretended like he was going to stand and go upstairs. “You dare me to?”

“H. Come here. You’ve seriously thought about this?”

“Every day for like, two years.”

“Fuck.”

Harry hummed a smile against Louis’ forehead. “Later. I wanted it to be us. Us against the world if we needed to, but like, you’re more important than anything.”

Louis wrapped his arms tight around Harry and squeezed. “Okay, so. Yeah. Okay. I kinda want to come over and do this all again without the drama.”

Harry laughed when Louis jumped up from the couch and ran out the door, slamming it behind him.

Harry waited for him to come back in, but he didn’t. Then his phone alerted him to a text message. “H, you home? I’m gonna stop by.”

Harry shook his head at this ridiculous boy. He responded, “I’m here. Come over whenever!”

The front door finally opened then banged close again. “Harry?” Louis called out. 

“In here!” Harry stood in anticipation. 

Louis rocketed into the room and straight toward Harry. Harry realized at the very last second what was about to happen, and clumsily caught Louis as he jumped up and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist. Harry hitched him up a bit to get a better grip. 

“Baby!” Louis exclaimed. “I got a spot! We’re going to be teammates!”

Louis put both of his hands behind Harry’s head, and pulled him into a searing kiss. Harry, mostly blindly, walked them back against a wall in the hall. 

“I knew it.” Harry spoke between kisses. “Knew you’d get it. My boy is so fucking talented.”

“Next year is going to be amazing. I can’t wait.”

Harry kept Louis pinned to the wall, but craned his neck back to look at Louis clearly. “Hey, Lou?” 

“Harry, you have my complete attention.”

“I was thinking… do you want to go to prom, uh, together?”

Louis gasped, then blinked slowly a few times. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I mean.” He cleared his throat. “Louis Tomlinson, will you do me the honor of going to prom with me?”

Louis nodded quickly then drew Harry into another kiss, this time managing to grind their hips together in the confined space. “Fuck, yeah, baby. I can’t believe it. You’re sure? Really? Prom?”

“Yeah. I’m… I’ve been thinking and like, yeah. I really want to go to prom with you. I want to start showing you off immediately. I’ve been waiting far, far too long.”

Louis wiggled his way out of Harry’s hold, so they were standing chest to chest. “I’ll go with you if you go with me?”

Harry grabbed his hand and started leading him upstairs. He needed to get his hands on Louis, all of Louis, immediately. 

***

Harry ran a finger under the itchy collar; the rented tuxes weren’t quite a perfect fit and he was overheated in the stiff fabric, but at least they were suffering together. It felt like the picture taking was never going to end. He’d thought their families would already have all the pictures they could possibly need, but they were still standing, arms around each other, by Louis’ front door, the whole extended family—Including four sets of grandparents!—coming to see them off. His cheeks were already sore from smiling and they were going to be late if they didn’t get a move on. 

They both sighed with relief once were finally alone in the car. Harry knew his hand was clammy, but clasped tightly to Louis’ as Louis drove them. It was so quiet and the air in the car seemed thick and stale. Harry rolled his window down a crack. 

“This is…” Louis paused as he merged into traffic. “We’re going to be okay, right?”

Louis had always been the fearless one, in and out of their relationship. He led the way, pushing Harry's comfort zones (mostly in the best way), and making him a better person. His limitless beliefs that kindness and compassion would win out, and that they'd be okay through it all, kept Harry going on some of his toughest days. Yes, Harry had made it through high school pretty much unscathed, but he still didn't share Louis' optimism.

It was so rare for Louis to seem doubtful about something like this that it surprised Harry, and he took a few seconds to react. “Yeah, baby. One way or another tonight’s going to be really fun. Whether that’s at prom or if we decide to cut out early and have some alone time.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Louis groaned. “You always been such a dork?”

“You know I have. And you love it,” Harry preened. 

Louis turned and gave him a small smile. “I do. I really love you.”

Harry brought their clasped hands up to his mouth and gave Louis’ knuckles a smacking kiss. 

As they got closer to Phillips Academy, tensions rose again. This time Louis pulled his hand out of Harry’s grasp and put on his ‘Pr*m’ playlist. The opening notes of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” erupted from the speakers, drowning out their voices as they both sang along. 

They were half singing, half giggling by the time Louis pulled into the parking lot. Harry knew the possibility of the night going downhill from there was very real and very likely, but he was happy they at least had that moment before going in to face the masses. 

“We’re going to be fine,” Louis said. 

“Hey, we don’t… if you don’t want to…”

“I do, H.” He worked his teeth over his lower lip as he grabbed Harry’s forearm. “I want this. I want this night with you.”

“Okay. Then I’m going to give you the very best prom you’ve ever had.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Dork.”

“Your dork.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” Louis pulled Harry into a quick kiss. “Let’s do this.”

They walked up to the folding table just inside the main doors, hands grazing each others’ as they walked. Louis handed over their tickets and introduced Harry to the woman manning the table. Harry had no idea who she was, but smiled politely and shook her hand, wishing her a good night as they walked away, toward the thumping bass in the gymnasium.

Louis was walking with long, purposeful strides. Harry did a little double time step to keep up with him, whooshed out a breath, and linked their hands before they stepped inside. 

Harry expected it to be like a cheesy prom movie, complete with a spotlight shining in their faces, and a record scratch, while the crowd parted, and everyone in the room went silent and turned to watch them. In reality, they opened the door, Harry followed after Louis, still holding his hand, and nothing happened. No spotlight shone on them, the music continued to play, and the handful of people standing near the door turned their heads at the sound of it closing behind them, then went back to their conversations. 

“So, uh,” Louis yelled into Harry’s ear. “Wanna dance?”

Harry shrugged. That was what they were there for. Hands still held tightly, they wove through the clumps of students standing around talking instead of dancing. Louis waved and smiled and said hi to almost everyone he passed. “Look at you, Mr. Popular!” Harry shouted into his ear. 

Louis gave him a bashful smile and then quirked his face into a ‘who me?’ expression and shrugged. 

Harry suspected that people were staring, but when he looked around, there might have been a questioning glance or two. Otherwise, he was pretty much ignored as they made their beeline to the dance floor. 

Harry suddenly realized that he didn’t actually know how to dance. And it seemed that Louis was registering the same thought as they turned to face each other and burst into laugher at the same time. “Come ’ere.” Harry pulled Louis close, draping his arms over Louis’ shoulders, and rolling his hips and doing a little dip that he hoped approximated the beat. 

Louis stepped closer and brought his hands to Harry’s waist. They eventually fell into a groove, and once the slow song they’d been dancing too was replaced by something with a faster beat, they were bopping and gyrating to the music. Before long they were a sweaty mess and out of breath from jumping and dancing. Louis was flushed and so, so beautiful. His eyes sparkled in the flashing lights and even though his hair was falling flat, and he had to keep brushing it off his forehead, he had a huge smile plastered on his face. The smile that normally only came out after winning a one on one game in the backyard or beating Harry at Madden. It was addictive. Harry wanted to see that smile every day. Louis looked like he was having the time of his life, and Harry couldn’t believe there was ever a time when he thought they weren’t going to be able to have this moment. 

They slid back together when another slow song came on. Harry pulled him close, and Louis rested his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, slung his arms around his hips until his hands rested right above Harry’s ass. Harry’s held Louis in a tight embrace as they swayed along with the rest of the dance floor while John Legend crooned. 

“Thank you,” Louis said into his ear, and Harry couldn’t do anything but pull him in tighter, to try to convey how important this was to him. 

The song came to end and Harry desperately wanted Louis to stay, to not put the space between them that they had during the fast songs. He wanted to stay pressed against Louis for the rest of the night. 

It wasn’t the song change, but Liam, that drew Louis away. 

“Here you are!” Liam threw open his arms and Louis jumped in to them. Harry wasn’t jealous, he wasn’t, no matter how good Liam happened to look in his suit. “The rumors are true! You did show up!”

“Harry,” Louis said, “you know Liam, of course, and this is Zayn, his uh, well… his Zayn.” 

Harry gave a smile and small wave. If he didn’t have the most beautiful boy in the world on his arm, there was the possibility he’d be distracted by Zayn’s face. But as it stood, Harry could do nothing but practically gape at the great looking couple. 

“Where you been hiding out?” Liam asked. 

“Dancing.” Louis jerked his head toward the dance floor. 

Zayn scoffed, loud enough to be heard over the music. “You don’t dance.”

Louis looked unimpressed. “Not with you.” He slung his arm around Harry’s waist. “This one’s a different story.” Louis’ eyes crinkled with how hard he was smiling at Harry. 

Harry wanted to squeeze Louis with how cute he was. He just looked so proud to be standing there with Harry. And there were lots people coming up to Louis to say hi and make small talk, and Louis introduced Harry with no hesitation whatsoever. They mugged for pictures and even some of the players Harry had met on the lacrosse field were nothing but nice to him. Which… Harry wasn't sure anyone on his side would extend anyone from Phillips the same courtesy. 

Their plan was to hit up both proms, since they were on the same night. But a very large part of Harry wanted to skip his own. So far his prom night experience had been unbelievably good, so much more than he’d ever imagined, and he was worried that they’d regret it if they showed up at Exter.. 

“Coming to the after party?” As Zayn finished up the question, Liam whispered something in his ear that made Zayn squirm. 

“Um…” Harry looked to Louis, hoping he’d take the question. They hadn’t talked about any after parties. 

“Maybe.” Louis looked back at Harry for a moment and shrugged in indifference before turning back to his friends. “We’re going to hit up Exter. So, maybe we’ll see you after. I dunno. Didn’t really plan that far ahead, to be honest.”

Given the choice, Harry would’ve stayed in the Phillips gymnasium, surrounded by strangers, and maybe even hit up their after party, than risk ruining their night by going to Exter. “Oh, Lou, we don’t have to—” 

Liam cut him off with a harsh laugh. “Well, have fun with those pricks.”

Harry rolled his eyes. They were pricks, but they were _his_ pricks and he didn’t appreciate Liam’s tone. “Seriously?”

“Okay, boys. We’re not doing this now.”

“Right, sorry, man.” Liam nodded and his tone sounded so sincere that Harry thought his apology might actually be real. “I know you’re not like… We’re glad you’re here.”

“’Course, yeah. It’s fine—”

“Come on, Curls. I want to get one more dance in before we leave.”

Louis led them back to the dance floor just in time for the music to change to a slow song. 

“Did you plan that?” 

Louis winked in response, then took his proper place tucked against Harry’s body. Harry couldn’t help himself from drawing in a deep breath, inhaling the mix of Louis’ cologne and shampoo and just a hint of sweat, a smell Harry could never get enough of. 

It wasn’t until they’d gotten back in the car, driven across town, and were about to pull into Harry’s school parking lot, that Harry blurted out his worst fear. 

“It’s possible they’ll like, kick us out or something. I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone has ever… and like… the moment you feel uncomfortable or you want to leave—” 

“Hey. We can do this. You can do this. We’re here and I think we should go in; I think you’ll regret it if we don’t, but if it really is your worst nightmare, say the word and we’ll leave.”

Harry gave a curt nod. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

The walk to the front door wasn’t any easier than getting out of the car. Harry reached out for Louis’ hand, then retracted his arm immediately. He wasn’t quite ready. Pulling open the heavy gym doors, Harry was hoping to slink into the corner and stay out of everyone’s way as much as possible. Unfortunately, their entrance was more like what Harry expected the first time around. The record didn’t scratch, the spotlight didn’t shine on them, but there were definitely stares as they walked into the room. Just a few people to start with, but soon it felt like everyone who wasn’t occupied on the dance floor had their eyes trained on Harry and Louis. 

Harry felt like a balloon drifting off without Louis’ hand in his to anchor him. 

Niall walked up just as he was about to grab Louis’ hand, turn around and head for the door. 

“Well, shit. I saw the pics on Instagram, but I didn’t think you’d have the balls to show up.” Niall pulled him into a tight hug, holding on far longer than was necessary, but allowing Harry a chance to breathe. 

“Instagram?”

“Hi,” Niall let go long enough to give Louis a wave of his fingers. “I’m Niall. Nice to finally, officially, meet you.”

“Yeah, I, uh, yeah. Louis.”

Niall laughed. 

Holly, Niall’s date, gave Louis a quick hug hello. “Glad there’s more of us representing,” Louis laughed. 

“What’s on Instagram?” Harry needed Niall to answer him. 

“Oh, pics from you guys over at their prom. I think some snapchats have made the rounds.”

“Word gets around fast, apparently,” Louis said. 

“So, not much of a surprise, huh?” Harry asked. He looked around and they were still apparently the center of attention, so there was no way they were old news to anyone yet. 

“Pretty sure everyone was surprised. Come on, let’s dance.” He turned quickly on his heel and got in Louis’ face. “You do dance, don’t you?” Niall set off cackling while Harry pulled Louis in close. It could take a minute to get used to Niall’s sense of humor. 

“Dance?”

“I’d love to.” 

The songs were pretty much the same they had already heard that night, and after a song or two, the wide berth they were given on the dance floor began to shrink until it was non-existent and before long Harry was bashing elbows and crashing arms with his classmates. It was all fine, their dancing was perhaps a little stiffer and a little more cautious than that it had been at Phillips, but Harry caught Louis smiling a few times, especially when Niall did the _Pulp Fiction_ dance with his date. 

Of course, Xander and Eric and their dates had to come over and ‘accidentally’ bump into Louis, sending him stumbling across the dance floor and away from Harry. 

“So, I guess it’s true then?” Xander sneered.

Harry tried to push back so he could get to Louis. He needed Louis by his side. He was just steps away and yet Harry felt like he was abandoning him. He couldn’t leave him to fend for himself. 

“Fuck off,” Harry growled. 

“Oh, look at that. Styles is possessive.” Eric’s singsong tone made Harry want to sucker punch him. 

But before Harry could do it, Louis gave him a rough shove. 

Eric and Xander were both on Louis in a moment. Someone threw a sloppy punch and both Niall and Harry jumped into the fray. Louis was holding his own against them, but Harry forced himself between Louis and his attackers as Niall tried to hold them back. Louis’ fist finally, barely, connected with Xander’s jaw and he yelped as he swung in Louis’ direction. Louis ducked just in time. They weren’t deterred though, and Niall struggled against both of them. 

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on here?” A teacher that Harry only knew by name came rushing over. 

Xander let go of Louis’ lapel with a brutal shake. 

“This kid from Phillips snuck in here,” Eric lied. “We just wanted to make sure he wasn’t here to cause trouble.”

“Louis has been nothing but awesome since they got here,” Niall said. Harry was pretty sure the extra pink tint high on his cheeks wasn’t from the dancing, but was from pure anger. He was practically vibrating. “Which is honestly more than I can say about you two dicks.”

The teacher still looked skeptical. “This is an all-boys school. Since no one invited you, care to explain what you’re doing here?”

“I—” Louis faltered. 

“He was invited.” Harry finally found his voice. “Louis is my date.” He cleared his throat. “My boyfriend.” Harry knew he sounded rough and cleared his throat. He rocked back on his heels in the silence that followed, catching Louis’ eye and then quickly looking away. 

“Oh.” The teacher looked dumbfounded. 

Xander and Eric both scoffed, and took a step back. 

“Well you boys stay away from each other tonight.” Harry rolled his eyes. Of course they weren’t going to be punished. 

“Whatever. Not like we want to hang around with them.” They took off laughing. 

Harry shouldn’t have let them get to him, but, of course, he did. The two rotten apples that ruined the whole bushel. 

“And I’ll be letting Coach know about this little altercation,” the teacher continued. “He’ll know best.” 

It felt like both a threat and a punishment all at once and Harry was fuming that it felt like _he_ was getting in trouble. 

Louis tucked a stray curl behind Harry’s ear. “What do you say…” Harry knew exactly what Louis was going to say. “We get out of here.” 

Harry threw a rushed, “Thanks for everything, Ni,” behind him as he rushed Louis toward the door. He needed to get out of the gym immediately. 

He gulped in the warm night air as they made their way to the car. 

“I—”

“Don’t, Lou. Just… don’t. I knew it was going to happen but I let you walk right into it anyway.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. They’re douchebags. You know they’re douchebags. They’re probably always going to be douchebags. We’re going to keep our heads held high and put this behind us.”

Harry pressed him up against the nearest car, ignoring the voice in his head that knew he was getting Louis’ tux covered in pollen. He kissed him long and hard. It was a release and a thanks and a worship all rolled into one and it wasn’t nearly enough. 

Louis pulled away from the kiss and loosened his tie. “I’m about ready to get out of this tux. Whaddaya think?”

Harry put his hands on the dip of Louis’ waist and led him to his car. Getting Louis out of his suit was definitely a plan he could definitely get behind. 

***

Despite the situation with Xander being tense at best, their team made it through to the state finals. Harry suspected that Coach had been debriefed on the events of prom night. He might have been imagining it, but Coach seemed to have been especially hard on Xander and Eric since then. Coach never mentioned anything to Harry though. Harry avoided them as much as possible, and they seemed to be doing the same to him. 

The bus ride across the state was rowdy to start, then as they got closer and closer to their destination the nerves started to creep in more and more and the boys settled a bit. Harry went from joking around, bouncing in his seat and flicking bits of paper in Niall’s hair to pulling headphones over his ears and cranking up his ‘Tough LAX’ playlist. He closed his eyes and tried and failed to sleep the time away. 

By the time they pulled up to the stadium, adrenaline was flooding his body. Harry worked mindlessly through his pregame ritual: pads and uniform on, Coach’s speech, warm-up laps, stretches, one last pep talk. Then the blur of the ritual ended and Harry heard his name being called over the speaker system. He ran out of the tunnel and onto the brightly lit field. The stadium wasn’t packed, it was _huge_ , but there were far more people than he had ever played in front of. He scanned the crowd, but wasn’t able to pick out his parents from that distance. The cheers blurred together as his teammates were called out as well, then the other team, and then the starting whistle sounded. 

Harry hadn’t done a tremendous amount of research on the opponents, other than what Coach had shown them in the few videos he had of the other team’s playoff games. Final exams, worrying about prom, and making plans for summer had all taken precedence for once. But, he knew they were good. And he knew it was going to be a fight to win the State Championship. 

At halftime they were down by two, and they were exhausted. The other team seemed to be running circles around them and though Exter were playing fine, great even, they couldn’t find a way to edge their way ahead. The halftime speech was not what Harry was used to. Coach was proud of them and telling them they were putting up a good fight, and that he could tell by the end of the half that they were starting to wear down and this was where their team’s endurance was going to come up; a few lucky bounces their way and they’d be back on top. 

The team ran back out to start the second half, but Coach pulled Harry aside before he was able to get out of the door. 

“Harry.”

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Don’t get discouraged. You boys can win this. Chest held high, stay tough. Show these boys what you’re really made of.” 

Harry swallowed. “Okay.”

“And know that I’m damn proud of this team. But especially you.”

“We’re going to win this one for you.”

Coach shook his head. “Nah. Win it for you.”

He clapped Harry on the back, and Harry took off in a jog to catch up with his teammates. 

The ref blew the whistle for the second half to start, and all the stars aligned in their favor. Harry’s team was on fire. They gained possession immediately and managed to out sprint, out pass, out check, out attack, and out defend the other team. Niall scored two goals in quick succession and going into the final quarter Harry’s team was fired up. They crashed their sticks above their head and shouted out “Exter!” in unison. 

Harry knew they were going to win. He could feel it in his bones. 

A flurry of movement in the front row of seats caught his eye, and he saw Louis, pink-cheeked with his arms raised, doing a sort of jumping cheer. Louis, dressed head to toe in red and yellow, even wearing an Exter t-shirt. He didn’t know Louis was going to be there. Harry blinked a few times and shook his head. He couldn’t believe that Louis traveled all this way to see him play. He raised his stick so Louis knew that he saw him, then Louis blew him a kiss. 

There was no way they were going to lose. 

Harry took off running to execute a complicated play they had been practicing, and he could feel the noise level rising, that they were leaving the other team in the dust, that every last thing fell into place so that his team was playing as one spectacular unit, all on the same wavelength. With a minute left, Harry had managed to find himself one on one with the goalie. He faked to the left and then flicked his wrists, shooting the ball into the top right, undefended, quadrant of the goal. 

The goalie threw his stick into the dirt in frustration, as Harry’s whole team circled him with whooping shouts. They were ahead. They were going to win. They only had to hold off the other team for a single minute. 

Which they did. 

When the final buzzer went off, Harry dropped to his knees and ripped off his helmet. The whole team, bench players, and the entire coaching staff ran onto the field, and Harry found himself in the middle of a giant celebration. He looked all around, trying to see above the mass of people surrounding him, but in all the chaos he wasn’t able to find who he was looking for. 

He tried to fight his way outside the circle of his team, and as he was able to take a breath, free from the crush of people, a small powerhouse of a boy crashed into him. 

Louis leapt into his arms, circling his legs around Harry’s waist, and kissing all over Harry’s sweaty face. He stopped with the kisses long enough to give Harry a smile and then kept repeating, “I’m so proud of you.” “Knew you could do it.” “State Fucking Champion!” until Harry couldn’t do anything but pull him into another kiss, prying Louis’ mouth open with his tongue and licking the words right out of his mouth. 

They fell into a pile when Harry’s arms and legs gave out, giggling after the impact. Thank god for padded protection. The celebration was still carrying on around them, as other spectators were coming down from the stands too. 

“How are you even here?” Harry asked. 

“Hitched a ride with your parents.” 

Harry shook his head and then tried to find his parents among the few people left in the stands. Louis pointed him in the right direction, and he finally caught their eye, giving them a thumbs up and blowing them kisses. They waved back, looking proud as could be. 

Harry and Louis stood back up, arms circling each other’s waists as much they could with the chest and shoulder pads in the way. 

Harry was planting another sweaty kiss on the side of Louis’ head when a man in an orange and blue Syracuse polo walked up to them. He extended his hand and introduced himself as he and Harry shook. 

“I’m Coach Petersen, from Syracuse.”

“Yes, sir, I know. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

The coach turned to Louis who had taken a step away from Harry. “This must be the boyfriend you were telling me about.” 

Louis slung his arm back around Harry’s waist and squeezed his hip. “Yes, sir.” 

“I want to welcome you both to ’Cuse. It’s going to be a great season.”

“Thank you,” Harry stammered as their new coach faded back into the crowd. 

“Sorry.” Louis burst out laughing. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “We met up in the stands. I might have been gushing a little bit about you.”

Harry let out a laugh too. “So, I guess that’s that.”

Louis smiled. “All out!”

They walked around the field, collecting bits of Harry’s uniform he had dropped in celebration. Helmet here, stick there. His mouthguard was missing but Harry couldn’t be bothered to put any effort into finding it. 

“Styles, you coming to Xander’s party tonight?” Eric asked. 

Niall and Louis were fist bumping when he looked over. 

“Only if Lou’s invited too.”

Eric rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, you can bring that asshole.”

“Well, that’s a really tempting offer, but I’m done pretending to like you.” Harry shrugged and walked away, not even caring what his reaction might be. 

“H!” Niall called after him. “There’s been a change of plans. Party at my house instead. Those two are not invited.”

“Ni, you don’t have to...”

“It’s not just you. The rest of us,” he waved his hand at the celebration still going on behind them, “we’re on your side. No one’s going to Xander’s.”

“Oh.” Harry was dumbfounded. He had just assumed…

“And this goes without saying but Tommo’s invited too.”

“Okay. Cool. Yeah. We’ll see you there.” 

Niall clamped him on the back. “Gonna be a wild bus ride back! State Champs, baby!” 

Harry laughed. State Champions. He could hardly believe it. Now the rest of his life could begin; somehow, against all odds it had worked out. The summer stretched before him. He was ready to combine his and Louis’ friends, to spend long nights wrapped up in each other, and practice hard. The next season would start before they knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the tumblr post, if you'd like to share!](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/post/160913535958/louandhazaf-title-swallow-my-words-author)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> [Say hi to me on tumblr!](http://www.louandhazaf.tumblr.com)


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